


A Bank of Violets

by Mollymauler



Series: Dusk [1]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Angst, As in bella now has friends, Attempted Sexual Assault, Awkward Bella, Can you tell i know jack shit about cars, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Friendships, F/F, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fuck Tyler, Hand-wavy car science, Homophobic Language, Humor, Minor Original Character(s), My First Work in This Fandom, Plot, Rosalie is sapphic, Slow Burn, This isn't as angsty as i thought it would be, bella is gay, edward and Alice are wingmen, pro Jessica Stanley, removing problematic undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 103,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22114762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mollymauler/pseuds/Mollymauler
Summary: Bella’s gay and Rosalie is single. A twilight rewrite.DISCLAIMER: the first few chapters will read more like an edit of the original text until the plot diverges and I begin to add in new scenes. More plot divergence=more new content.(Not relationship-centric)
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Rosalie Hale/Bella Swan
Series: Dusk [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591801
Comments: 547
Kudos: 1194





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> There will be changes beyond Bella’s sexuality. Things like portrayals of characters that I don’t like (such as Jess as a stereotypical fake friend), and Bella being rude for no apparent reason will be edited.

If music be the food of love, play on.

Give me excess of it that, surfeiting,

The appetite may sicken, and so die.

That strain again, it had a dying fall.

Oh, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,

That breathes upon a bank of violets,

Stealing and giving odor. Enough, no more.

'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.


	2. Prologue

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I tried not to sigh as i thought about the impending rain—I wouldn't be seeing the sun for months. I was wearing a white tank top (one of my favourites), but it was a last hurrah. My carry-on item was a parka.  
  
In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington state, a small town named Forks exists under a neat-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was here that me and my mom had lived until I was a few months old, when she had escaped from its gloomy, omnipresent shade to raise me in Phoenix. I had returned every summer to see my dad, Charlie, until I finally put my foot down when I was fourteen. Since then, he had come to visit me in California instead. I hadn't been back since.  
  
Forks was were I was now headed—reluctantly, but doing it nonetheless. I detested Forks, preferring the sun and blistering heat of Phoenix. I loved the vibrant and sprawling city I’d grown up in, and despised the tiny, cold, wet, town to which I was now exiling myself.   
  
“Bella,” my mom said to me—the last of a thousand times—before I got in the plane. “You don’t have to do this.”  
  
Her eyes were wide, childlike. I felt a spasm of panic as I looked at the concerned expression on her face—she looked like me, except with shorter hair and smile lines, and could pass for my younger sister. Sometimes, though, I felt like I was _her_ mother. How could I leave her? Of course, she had Phil now, so he could help make sure my usual jobs got done on time—the bill's would get paid, there would be good in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and she could call him when she was lost... That didn't alleviate the guilt in my chest, though.  
  
“I want to go,” I lied weakly. I’d always been a horrible liar, but practice made perfect. Renée didn't notice the waver in my voice, though.  
  
“Tell Charlie I said hi.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
“I’ll see you soon,” she insisted. “You can come home whenever you want—I’ll come right back as soon as you need me.”  
  
But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise.  
  
“Don’t worry about me,” I urged. “It’ll be great. I love you, Mom.”  
  
She hugged me tightly for a minute, and then I got in the plane, and she was gone.  
  
It’s a four hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn’t bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about.  
  
Charlie had been unexpectedly happy about the whole thing. Our interactions throughout my childhood had been tacit, and infrequent, so the apparent excitement about my arrival confused me. I had been operating under an assumption of mutual indifference. But apparently he'd already got me registered for high school, and had plans to help find me a car.  
  
But it was sure to be awkward with him. Neither of us was what anyone would call verbose, and I didn’t know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision—like my mother before me, I hadn’t made a secret of my distaste for Forks.  
  
It was raining in Port Angeles. I wasn’t surprised, but it did make me sigh. If I was a more spiritual person, I’d see I as an omen. Now, I just saw it as inevitable.   
  
Charlie was waiting for me in his cruiser. I had expected it, but it didn't prevent the embarrassed flush from rising in my cheeks. Being picked up from the airport by a Police Chief drew more than a few concerned looks. That was primarily why used wanted to buy a car, despite my scarcity of funds—being driven around town with flashing lights would make me st and out more than I already would.  
  
Charlie gave me an awkward, one armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane.  
  
“It’s good to see you, Bells,” he said, smiling warmly as he automatically caught and steadied me. “You haven’t changed much. How’s Renée?”  
  
“Mom’s fine. It’s good to see you too, Dad.” I wasn’t allowed to call him Charlie to his face.  
  
I only had a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington. Me and Renée had combined what little winter clothes we had to supplement my wardrobe, but it could all easily fit in the trunk of his cruiser. I'd probably have to go shopping.  
  
“I found a good car for you, really cheap,” he announced proudly when we were strapped in.  
  
“What kind of car?” I was suspicious of the way he said 'good car for you' as opposed to just 'good car.'  
  
“Well it’s a truck actually, a Chevy.”  
  
Promising. I’d always loved trucks.   
  
“Where did you find it?”  
  
“Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?” La Push is the tiny reservation on the coast.  
  
“No...” I replied slowly, trying to search my memories. The name sounded familiar.  
  
“He used to go fishing with us during the summer,” Charlie prompted.  
  
Ah. I had forcibly removed the memories of those trips—they were far too unpleasant. The hours of sitting next to a river and rotting maggots were not high on my list of things to remember.   
  
“He’s in a wheelchair now,” Charlie continued when I didn’t respond, “so he can’t drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck for cheap.”  
  
“What year is it?” I could see from his change of expression that this was the question he was hoping I wouldn’t ask.  
  
“Well, Billy’s done a lot of work on the engine—it’s only a few years old, really.”  
  
I hoped he didn’t think so little of me as to believe I would give up that easily. “When did he buy it?”  
  
“He bought it in 1984, I think.”  
  
“Did he buy it new?”  
  
“Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties—or late fifties at the earliest,” he admitted sheepishly.  
  
“Ch—Dad, I don’t really know anything about cars. I wouldn’t be able to fix it if anything went wrong and I couldn’t afford a mechanic...”  
  
“Really, Bella, the thing runs great. They don’t build them like that anymore.”  
  
“How cheap is cheap?” After all, that was the part I couldn’t compromise on.  
  
“Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift.” Charlie peered sideways at me with a hopeful expression.  
  
Wow. Free.  
  
“You didn’t need to do that, Dad. I was going to buy myself a car.”  
  
“I don’t mind. I want you to be happy here.” He was looking ahead at the road when he said this. Charlie wasn’t comfortable with expressing his emotions out loud. I inherited that from him. So I was looking straight ahead as I responded.  
  
“That’s really nice, Dad. Thanks. I really appreciate it.” No need to add that my being happy in Forks was an impossibility. He didn’t need to suffer along with me. And I never looked a free truck in the mouth—or engine.  
  
“Well, now, you’re welcome,” he mumbled, embarrassed by my thanks.  
  
We exchanged a few more comments on the weather, which was wet, and that was pretty much it for conversation. We stared out the window in silence.  
  
It was beautiful, of course; I couldn’t deny that. Everything was green: the trees, their trunks covered with moss, their branches hanging with a canopy of it, the ground covered with ferns. Even the air filtered down greenly through the leaves.  
  
But the excess of plant life made me uncomfortable—I was so used to the sparse, dry beauty of Phoenix, that the lush foliage seemed almost alien to me.  
Eventually we made it to Charlie’s. He still lived in the small, two bedroom house he’d bought with my mother in the early days of their marriage. Those were the only kind of days their marriage had—the early ones. There, parked in the street in drive was my new—well new to me—truck. It was a faded red colour, with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. To my intense surprise, I loved it. I didn’t know if it would run, but I could see myself in it. Plus it was one of those solid iron affairs that never gets damaged—the kind you see at the scene of an accident, paint scratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed.  
  
“Wow, Dad, I love it! Thanks!” Now my horrific day tomorrow would be just that bit less dreadful. I wouldn’t be faced with the choice of either walking two miles in the rain to school or accepting a ride in the Chief’s cruiser—I would have invariably chosen to walk, but my coat wouldn't behave allowed me to make the journey dry.  
  
“I’m glad you like it,” Charlie said gruffly, embarrassed again.  
  
It took only one trip to get all my stuff upstairs. I got the west bedroom that faced out over the front yard. The room was familiar; it had belonged to me since I was born. The wooden floor, the light blue walls, the peaked ceiling, the yellow lace curtains around the window—these were all part of my childhood. The only changes Charlie has ever made were switching the crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew. The desk now held a secondhand computer, with the phone line for the modem staples along the floor to the nearest phone jack. This was a demand of Renée, who wanted to be able to contact me easily. My phone number was evidently not enough. The rocking chair from my baby days was still in the corner.  
  
There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie.  
  
One of the best things about Charlie is that he doesn’t hover. He left me along to unpack and get settled, a feat that would have been altogether impossible if my mother had been flitting around. It was nice to be left alone, not to have to smile and look pleased; a relief to stare dejectedly out the window at the sheeting rain and let just a few tears escape. I wasn’t in the mood to really sob. I would save that for bedtime, when I would have to think about the coming morning. When Charlie wouldn't hear and worry.  
  
Forks High School has a frightening total of only three hundred and fifty-seven—now fifty-eight—students; there were more than seven hundred people in my junior class alone back home. All the kids here had grown up together—their grandparents had been toddlers together. I would be the strange new girl from the big city, a curiosity, a freak. And that would before they knew I liked girls.  
  
It would help if I looked like I was supposed to—tall, tan, blonde, involved in some sport or activity stereotypical of the valley of the sun. A cheerleader... or maybe a volleyball player.  
  
Instead i was pale and thin, but I looked more like a diseased Victorian child than a Ted Burton love interest. My skin was abnormally white without the excuse of blue eyes or red hair, and my weight wasn't because I was particularly active—I didn't have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself and endangering everyone in the surrounding area.  
  
When I finished putting my clothes in the old pine dresser, I took my bag of bathroom necessities and went to the communal bathroom to clean myself up after the day of travel. I looked at my face in the mirror as I brushed through my tangled, damp hair. Maybe it was the light, but already I looked sallower, unhealthy. My skin could be pretty—it was very clear, almost translucent-looking—but it all depended on colour. I had no colour here.  
  
Facing my pallid reflection in the mirror, I was forced to admit that I was lying to myself. It wasn’t just physically that I’d never fit in. If I could barely find a niche in a school with three thousand people, what were my chances here?  
  
I didn’t relate well to people my age. Maybe the truth was that I didn’t relate well to people, period. Renée often joked about my being 'special', and it had become an on going joke between her and Phil. Even Blair, my best friend, who I was closer to than anyone else on the planet, was never in harmony with me, never on exactly the the same page. Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs. Maybe there was a glitch in my brain.  
  
But the cause didn’t matter. All that mattered was effect. And tomorrow would be just the beginning.

*

I didn’t sleep well that night, even after I was done crying. The constant hammering of the rain and wind across the roof wouldn’t fade into the background. I tried to bury my face under the quilt, and, later, my pillow, but I couldn’t fall asleep until after midnight, when the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle.

  
Thick fog was all I could see out my window in the morning, and I could feel the claustrophobia creeping up on me. You could never see the sky here; it was like a cage. Already I longed for the wide open desert of Pheonix.  
  
Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet event. He wished me good luck at school. I thanked him, knowing his hope was wasted. Good luck tended to avoid me. Charlie left first, off to the police station that was his wife and family. After he left, I sat at the old square oak table in one of the three unmatching chairs and examined his small kitchen, with its dark panelled walls, bright yellow cabinets, and white linoleum floor. Nothing had changed. My mother had painted the cabinets eighteen years ago in an attempt to bring some sunshine into the house. Over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room was a row of pictures. First the picture of Charlie and my mom in Las Vegas, at their shotgun wedding, then one of the three of us in the hospital after I was born, taken by a helpful nurse, followed by the procession of my school pictures up to last year’s. Those were embarrassing to look at—I would have to see what I could do to get Charlie to put them somewhere else, at least while I was living here. I did not need to be reminded of my historically bad haircuts whenever I came to eat.  
  
The decorations reminded me of the unspoken fact of our family—Charlie had never gotten over my mom. It made me uncomfortable.  
  
I didn’t want to be too early to school, but I couldn’t stay in the house anymore. I donned my jacket—which had the feel of a biohazard suit—and headed out into the rain.  
  
It was just drizzling, not enough to soak through my coat immediately as I reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the door, and locked up. The sloshing of my new waterproof boots was unnerving. I missed the normal crunch of gravel as I walked. I didn't have the chance to pause and admire my truck again as I wanted; I was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that worked around my head and clung to my hair under my hood.  
  
Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had obviously cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started quickly, to my relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus I hadn’t expected.  
  
The school was pretty easy to find, just off the highway like most things in this town. I'd never been there before, and only noticed it because of the sign positioned right outside. It looked like a small collection of matching stone buildings—nothing like the sprawling expanse of my school back home. There were so many trees and shrubs I couldn't see its size at first. Where was the feel of the institution? I wondered nostalgically. Where were the chain link fences, the metal detectors?  
  
I parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading FRONT OFFICE. No one else was parked there, so I was sure it was off limits, but I decided I would get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. I stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. I took a deep breath before opening the door.  
  
Inside it was brightly lit, and warmer than I’d hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly. Plants grew everywhere in large plastic pots, as if there wasn’t enough greenery outside. The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and rainbow coloured flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, one of which was manned by a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses. She was wearing a purple T-shirt, which immediately made me feel overdressed.  
  
The red-haired woman looked up. “Can I help you?”  
  
“I’m Isabella Swan,” I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. I was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief’s flighty ex-wife, come home at last. The suspicion on her face made me bristle.  
  
“Of course,” she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. “I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school.” She brought several sheets to the counter to show me.  
  
She went through my classes for me, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign, which I was to bring back at the end of the day. She smiled at me and hoped, like Charlie, that I would like it here in Forks. I smiled back as convincingly as I could.  
  
When I went back out to my truck, other students were starting to arrive. I drove around the school, following the line of traffic. I was glad to see that most of the cars were older like mine, nothing flashy. At home I’d lived in one of the few lower-income neighbourhoods that were included in the Paradise Valley District. It was a common thing to see a new Mercedes or Porsche in the student lot. The nicest car here was a shiny Volvo, and it stood out. Still, I cut the engine as soon as I was in a spot, so that the thunderous volume wouldn’t draw attention to me.  
  
I looked at the map in the truck, trying to memorise it now; hopefully I wouldn’t have to walk around with it stuck in front of my nose all day. I stuffed everything in my bag, slung the strap over my shoulder, and sucked in a huge breath. I can do this, I lied to myself feebly. No one was going to bite me. I finally exhaled and stepped out of the truck.  
  
I kept my face pulled back into my hood as I walked to the sidewalk, crowded with teenagers. My plain black jacket didn’t stand out, I noticed with relief.  
  
Once I got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A large black “3” was painted on the white square on the east corner. I felt my breathing gradually creeping towards hyperventilation as I approached the door. I tried holding my breath as I followed two unisex raincoats through the door.  
  
The classroom was small. The people in front of me stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. I copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-coloured blonde, the other also pale, with light brown hair. At least my skin wouldn’t be a standout here.  
  
I took the slip up to the teacher, a talk, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying as Mr. Mason. He gawked at me when he saw my name—not an encouraging response—and of course I flushed tomato red. But at least he sent me to an empty desk at the back without introducing me to the class. It was harder for my new classmates to stare at me in the back, but somehow, they managed. I kept my eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given me. It was fairly basic: Brontë, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. No Dickinson, but Shakespeare was close enough. I’d already read everything. That was comforting... and boring. I wondered if my mom would send me my folder of our old essays, or if she would think that was cheating. I went through different arguments with her in my head while the teacher droned on.  
  
When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to me.  
  
“You’re Isabella Swan, aren’t you?” He looked like the overly helpful, chess club type.  
  
“Bella,” I corrected. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at me.  
  
“Where’s your next class?” He asked.  
  
I had to check in my bag. “Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six.”  
  
There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes.  
  
“I’m headed towards building four, I could show you the way...” Definitely over-helpful. “I’m Eric,” he added.  
  
I smiled tentatively. “Thanks.”  
  
We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. I hoped I wasn’t getting paranoid.  
  
“So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?” He asked  
  
“Very.”  
  
“It doesn’t rain much there, does it?”  
  
“Three or four times a year.”  
  
“Wow, what must that be like?” He wondered.  
  
“Sunny.” I told him.  
  
“You don’t look very tan.”  
  
“My mother is part albino.”  
  
He studied my face apprehensively. God, this was infuriating. It looked like clouds and a sense of humour didn’t mix. A few months of this and I’d forget how to use sarcasm. Blair would never let me live it down.  
  
We walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked me right to the door, though it was clearly marked.  
  
“Well, good luck,” he said as I touched the handle. “Maybe we’ll have some other classes together.” He sounded hopeful.  
  
I smiled at him vaguely and went inside.  
  
The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, who I would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made me stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I stammered, blushed, and tripped over my own boots on the way to my seat.  
  
After two classes, I started to recognise several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask me questions about how I was liking Forks. I tried to me diplomatic, but mostly I just lied a lot. At least I never needed the map.  
  
One girl sat next to me in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She was mixed, pretty, several inches shorter than my five feet eight inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between our heights. She was called Jessica, and I tried to smile and nod as she prattled on about teachers and classes. She seemed to be trying to give me some sort of survival guide; I appreciated the effort, but I barely knew who any of the teachers were, so her monologue was wasted on me.  
  
We sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to me. I forgot most of their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to me.  
  
It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that I first saw them.  
  
They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the long room. There were five of them. The entire table looked like a magazine cover depicting the perfect family: laughing together over food clearly not purchased in the crappy school cafeteria. They weren’t gawking at me, unlike most of the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught, and held my attention.  
  
They didn’t look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was black—muscled like a serious weight lifter, with dark curly hair. The enormous smile on his face offset his intimidating stature, somehow creating the impression of a massive teddy bear. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. He was the only one at the table who was scowling. The last boy was lanky, with untidy red hair.  
  
The girls were opposites, but equally stunning. The tall one was statuesque. She has a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was Asian, pixie like and thin in the extreme, with small features. Her hair was a deep black, cropped short and pointing in every direction.  
  
And yet, they were all exactly alike. The girls and the redhead were chalky pale, the palest of all the students living in this sunless town. Paler that me, the albino. They all had very dark eyes despite the range in hair tones. They also had dark shadows under those eyes—purplish, bruise-like shadows, noticeable even on the dark skin of the grinning boy. As if they were all suffering from a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though their noses, all their features, were straight, perfect, angular.  
  
But all this was not why I couldn’t look away.  
  
I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were the faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. It was hard to decide who was the most attractive—maybe the perfect blond girl.  
  
As I watched the small girl rose with her tray—food uneaten— and walked away with a swift, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer’s step, till she dumped her tray and glided our the backdoor. My eyes darted back to the others.  
  
“Who are _they _?” I asked Jessica.  
  
As she looked up to see who I meant—though probably already knowing from my tone— the redhead head suddenly looked up. He looked at my neighbour for just a fraction of a second, and then his dark eyes flickered to mine.  
  
He looked away quickly, but in that brief flash of a glance I had seen a small frown crease his forehead, as if he were confused by something.  
  
My neighbour giggled in embarrassment, quickly looking down at the table like I did.  
  
“That’s Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife.” She said under her breath.  
  
I glanced back to the redhead, who seemed to be having an intense discussion with the remaining members of the group.  
  
Strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kind of names grandparents had. But maybe that was in vogue here—small-town names?  
  
“They are... very nice-looking.” I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.  
  
“Yes!” Jessica agreed with another giggle. “Jasper and Alice are together though. And they live together.” Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Phoenix, it would cause gossip.  
  
“Which ones are the Cullens?” I asked. “They don’t look related...”  
  
“Oh, they’re not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his mid-thirties. They’re all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins—the blondes—and they’re foster children.”  
  
“They look a little old for foster children.”  
  
“They are now, Jasper and Rosalie and both eighteen, but they’ve been with Mrs Cullen since they were eight.”  
  
“That’s really nice—for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they’re so young and everything.”  
  
Jessica hummed in agreement.  
  
“Have they always lived in Forks?” I asked. Surely I would have noticed them on one of my summers here.  
  
“No,” she said, in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. “They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska.”  
  
I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted. Relief that I wasn’t the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard.  
  
As I examined them, the same boy, one of the Cullens, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in his expression.  
  
“Which ones are Jasper and Alice?” I asked, peeking at the table from the corner of my eye. He was still staring, but not gawking like the other students had today—he had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.  
  
Jessica giggled. “The single ones are Emmett—the big one—and Edward—the younger one. They’re gorgeous, of course, but don’t waste your time. They don’t date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough got them.” She sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered which one has turned her down.  
  
I bit my lip to hide my smile. She’d understood my real intention—but had misunderstood which gender. Based on what she’d said though, I guessed the blonde one was Rosalie, and the dark haired pixie was Alice, the one dating the blonde boy.  
  
After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They were all noticeably graceful—even the big brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Edward didn’t look at me again.  
  
I sat at the table with Jessica and her friends longer than I would’ve if I’d been sitting alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me her name was Angela, had Biology II with me the next hour. We walked to class together in silence. She was shy too.  
  
When we entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. She already had a neighbour. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the centre aisle, I recognised Edward Cullen by his bright red hair, sitting next to that single open seat.  
  
As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my slip signed, I was watching him surreptitiously. Just as I passed, he suddenly went rigid in his seat. He stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on his face— it was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked and stumbled over a book in the walkway, catching myself on the edge of a table. The girl sitting there giggled.  
  
I’d noticed that his eyes were black—coal black.  
  
Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about instructions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by Edward, bewildered by the antagonistic stare he’d given me.  
  
I didn’t look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw his posture change from the corner of my eye. He was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face like he smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my hair. It smelled like mint, the scent of my shampoo. It seemed an innocent enough odour. I let my hair fall over my right shoulder, making a dark curtain between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.  
  
Unfortunately the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something is already studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down.  
  
I kept sneaking glances at him throughout the lesson, trying to decipher his reaction. He never relaxed during the whole class, his hands remaining clenched against his legs. I could see the tendons standing out under his pale skin. I was almost concerned by how abnormally stiff he was.  
  
The class seemed to last much longer than the others of the day, but I could tell if it was because the day was _finally_ nearly over, or because I was waiting for his fist to open. It never did; he continued to sit so still I could barely see him breathe. I hoped this wasn't his normal behaviour—if it was, I would seriously question Jessica's taste in men. Although her bitterness would make more sense, if this was how he treated girls who approached him.  
  
It couldn’t have anything to do with me. He didn’t know me from Eve.  
  
I glanced over at him again, and instantly regretted it. He was glaring at me, his nose wrinkled in disgust. His mouth looked like it was half-snarling, and his teeth flashed strangely in the fluorescent lights. I flinched, and the phrase 'if looks could kill' ran through my mind. I didn't know someone could look so furious, and so repulsed, at the same time.  
  
As soon as the bell rang, he jumped out of his seat, storming out of the door before anyone else even had the chance to stand up. The surprise on my classmates faces made me feel worse—if this wasn't normal behaviour, had it been prompted just by me?  
  
I did a double take. There wasn't anyway he knew... right? It didn't seem like Charlie would gossip about my love life, but that was the only thing that could explain Edwards evident disgust with my existence.  
  
I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after him. He was so mean. It wasn’t fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.  
  
“Aren’t you Isabella Swan?” A male voice asked.  
  
I looked up to see a baby-faced boy, his pale blond hair carefully gelled unto orderly spikes, smiling at me in a friendly way. He obviously didn’t hate me.  
  
“Bella,” I corrected him, with a smile  
  
“I’m Mike.”  
  
“Hi, Mike.”  
  
“Do you need any help finding your next class?”  
  
“I’m headed to the gym, actually. I think I can find it.”  
  
“That’s my next class, too.” He seemed thrilled, though it wasn’t that big of a coincidence in a school this small.  
  
We walked to class together; he was a chatterer—he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. He’d lived in California till he was ten, so he knew how I felt about the sun. It turned out he was in my English class also. He was the nicest person I’d met today—although Jessica could give him a run for his money.  
  
But as we were entering the gym, he asked, “So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I’ve never seen him act like that.”  
  
I cringed. So I wasn’t the only one who had noticed. And apparently that wasn’t Edward Cullen’s normal behaviour. I decided to play dumb.  
  
“Was that the boy I sat next to in Biology?” I asked artlessly.  
  
“Yeah,” He said. “He looked like he was in pain or something.”  
  
“I don’t know,” I responded. “I never spoke to him.”  
  
“He’s a weird guy.” Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. “If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you.”  
  
Oh no. I didn't have much experience with boys being interested in me—a combination of my social standing and well known sexuality in Phoenix had prevented it—but Mike's comment seemed pretty clear.  
  
I smiled awkwardly at him before walking through the girls locker room door.  
  
The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn’t make me dress down for today’s class. At home, only two years of PE were required. Here, it was mandatory for all four years. Forks was literally my personal hell.  
  
I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained—and inflicted—playing volleyball, I felt faintly nauseated.  
  
The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong, and colder. I wrapped my arms around myself.  
  
When I walked into the warm office, I almost turned around and walked back out.  
  
Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of me. He didn’t appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.  
  
He was arguing with her quietly. From what I could hear, he was trying to from sixth-hour Biology to another time—any other time.  
  
I just couldn’t believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the biology room. The look on his face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me. Or, rather, it was impossible that he knew enough about me to dislike me. Despite my earlier panic, I was relatively sure that Charlie hadn't broadcasted that his daughter was gay.  
  
The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling papers on the desk, swirling my hair around my face. The girl who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in the basket, and walked out again. But Edward Cullen’s back stiffened and he turned slowly to glare at me with piercing, hate filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it chilled me more than the freezing wind. He turned back to the receptionist.  
  
“Never mind, then,” he said hastily. “I can see that it’s impossible. Thank you so much for your help.” And he turned on his heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.  
  
I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed her the signed slip.  
  
“How did your first day go, dear?” The receptionist asked maternally.  
  
“Fine,” I lied, my voice weak. She didn’t look convinced.  
  
When I got to the truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this damp green hole. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was cold enough to need the heater, so I turned the key and the engine roared to life. I headed back to Charlie’s house, fighting tears the whole way there.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose Rosalie over Alice for a gay rewrite for several reasons:  
> \- I really like Alice and Bella as sisters  
> \- Rosalies attitude towards turning Bella is closer to Edwards to the overarching threat of other vampires/the Volturi can remain the same  
> \- I don’t like the Rosalie/Emmett “he looks like the child I’ve always wanted and now we’re having sex” dynamic so now it’s a big sister/little brother relationship 
> 
> Throughout this series I’m going to be trying to remove the problematic subplots relating to the Quileutes, and give Bella stronger friendships so there are more interesting dynamics in New Moon and Eclipse, and also so she isn’t reduced to just the love interest in her own story.


	3. Open Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep me updated with your thoughts and opinions! I’m trying to base the portrayal of characters and relationships more off fanon, so you’re feedback will be very useful for shaping the story!

The next day was better... and worse.

It was better because it wasn’t raining yet, though the clouds were dense and opaque. It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit by me in English, and walked me to my next class, with Chess Club Eric glaring at him all the while. People didn’t look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Jessica, Mike, Eric, and several other people whose names and faces I now remembered. Angela was there too, but she seemed almost invisible, perched quietly at the end of the table. I began to feel like I was treading water, instead of drowning in it. 

It was worse because I was tired; I still couldn’t sleep with the wind echoing around the house. It was worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn’t raised and I had the wrong answer. It was miserable because I had to play volleyball, and the one time I didn’t cringe out of the way of the ball, I hit my teammate in the head with it. And it was worse because Edward Cullen wasn’t in school at all. 

Part of me had wanted to confront him and demand to know what his problem was. Ask what made him entitled to hate me without ever speaking to me. While I was lying sleepless in my bed, I even imagined what I would say. But I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to do it. I made the cowardly lion look like the terminator. 

But when I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica, I saw that his four siblings of sorts were sitting together at the same table, and he was not with them. It looked like they’d been informed of the Biology lesson however; the blonde girl in particular was looking at me with suspicion. 

Mike intercepted us and steered us to his table. Jessica seemed elated by the attention, and her friends quickly joined us. But as I tried to listen to their easy chatter, I was terribly uncomfortable, waiting nervously for the moment he would arrive. I hoped that he would simply ignore me when he came, and prove my suspicions. 

He didn’t come, and as time passed I grew more and more tense. 

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, he still hadn’t showed. Mike, who was taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, walked faithfully by my side to class. I held my breath at the door, but Edward Cullen wasn’t there, either. I exhaled and went to my seat. Mike followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. He lingered by my desk till the bell rang. Then he smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a boy with braces and a bad perm. It looked like I was going to have to do something about Mike, and it wouldn’t be easy. In a town like this, where everyone lived on top of everyone else, diplomacy was essential, but I had no practice dealing with overly friendly boys. 

I was relieved that I had the desk to myself, but I couldn’t get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason Edward wasn’t there. It was ridiculous, and egotistical, and yet I couldn’t stop worrying that it was true. 

When the school day was finally done, and the blush was fading out of my cheeks from the volleyball incident, I changed quickly back into my jeans and navy blue flannel. I hurried from the girls’ locker room, walking swiftly out to the parking lot. It was crowded now with fleeing students. I got in my truck and dug through my bad to make sure I had what I needed. 

I had requested last night that I be assigned kitchen detail for the duration of my stay. I’d felt uncomfortable watching him plod around the kitchen preparing dinner while I did nothing, and he was willing to hand over the keys to the banquet hall. Honestly, I was surprised it wasn’t an expectation of me. I also found out that he had no food in the house. So I had my shopping list and the cash from the jar in the cupboard labelled FOOD MONEY, and I was on my way to Thriftway. 

I started up the truck, trying to ignore both the deafening engine and the alarmed looks being sent my way. I backed my way carefully into a line of cars that were trying to exit the parking lot. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car—the shiny Volvo, of course. It made sense that they would have both good looks and wealth. Now that I looked properly, their clothes were clearly far nicer than most of the other students. Understated, not aggressively designer, but it was pretty evident, both in quality and design. I rolled my eyes. It was excessive for them to be both hot and rich. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn’t look as if it brought them any acceptance here. 

As my noisy truck passed them, they too looked toward me curiously. I tried to mimic their expressions, looking around as if to search for the source of the deafening engine, and pulled onto the highway. 

The Thriftway was not far from the school, just a few streets south, off the highway. It was nice to be inside the supermarket; it felt normal. I did the shopping at home, and I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly. The store was big enough inside that I couldn’t hear the tapping of the rain on the roof to remind me where I was. 

When I got home, I unloaded all of the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find an open space. I hoped Charlie wouldn’t mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge. 

When I was finished with that, I took my book bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed into a pair of dry sweats, pulled my damp hair up into a bun, and check my email for the first tine. I had three messages. 

“Bella,” my mom wrote...

_Write me as soon as you get in. Tell me how your flight was. I miss you already. I’m almost finished packing for Florida, but I can’t find anything. Do you know where I put my pink blouse? Phil says hi. Mom._

I sighed and went to the next. It was sent eight hours after the first. “Bella,” she wrote...

_Why haven’t you emailed my yet? What are you waiting for? Mom._

The last was from this morning. 

_Isabella,  
If I haven’t heard from you by 5:30pm today I’m calling Charlie. This is unacceptable. _

I checked the clock. I still had an hour, but my mom was well known for jumping the gun. 

_Mom,  
Calm down. I’m writing right now. Don’t do anything rash. Love you,  
Bella_

I sent that, and began again. 

_Mom, everything is great. Of course it’s raining. I was waiting for something to write about. School isn’t bad, just a little repetitive. I met some nice kids who sit by at lunch.  
Your blouse is at the dry cleaners—you were supposed to pick it up Friday.  
Charlie bought me a truck, can you believe? I love it. It’s old, but really sturdy, which is good, you know, for me.  
I miss you too. I’ll write again soon, but I’m not going to check my email every five minutes. Relax, breathe. I love you.  
Bella _

I had decided to read _Twelfth Night_ —the play we were currently studying in English—yet again for the fun of it, and that’s what I was doing when Charlie came home. I’d lost track if the time, and I hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steak in to grill, cursing under my breath. 

“Bella?” My father called out when he heard me on the stairs. 

“Hey, Dad, welcome home. Sorry I’m a bit late with dinner.”

“Don’t worry about it Bells.” He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I hustled about the kitchen. As far as I was aware, he’d never shot the gun on the job. But he kept it ready. When I came here as a child, he would always remove the bullets as soon as he walked in the door. I guess he considered me old enough now to not shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose. 

He seemed to feel awkward standing in the kitchen skin nothing; he lumbered into the living room to watch TV while I worked. We were both more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steaks cooked, and set the table. 

I called him in when dinner was ready, and he sniffed appreciatively as he walked into the room.

“Smells good, Bell.” 

Huh. “Thanks.”

We ate in silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable. Neither of us was bothered by the quiet. In some ways, we were well suited for living together. 

“So, how did you like school? Have you made any friends?” He asked as he was taking seconds.

“Well, I have a few classes with this friendly girl called Jessica. I sit with her friends at lunch. Everybody seems pretty nice.” With one outstanding exception. 

“That sounds really good, I’m glad you’re settling in here.” His eyes crinkled. 

“Do you know the Cullen family?” I asked after a brief pause.

“Dr. Cullen’s family? Sure. Dr. Cullen’s a great man .”

“They...the kids... are a little different. They don’t seem to fit in very well at school.”

Charlie surprised me by looking angry.

“People in this town,” he muttered. “Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon who could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here,” he continued, getting louder. “We’re lucky to have him—lucky his wife wanted to live in a small town. He’s an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts, when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. But they’re all very mature—I haven’t had one speck of trouble from any of them. That’s more than I can say of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should—camping trips every other weekend...just because they’re newcomers, people have to talk.” 

It was the longest speech I’d ever heard Charlie make. He must feel strongly about whatever people were saying. 

I back-pedalled. “They seemed nice enough to me. I just noticed they kept to themselves. They’d have no problems finding people to date.” I added, trying to be more complimentary. 

“You should see the doctor,” Charlie said, laughing. “It’s a good thing he’s happily married. A lot of the female nurses at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around—and some of the male ones too.” 

We lapsed back into silence as we finished eating. He cleared the table as I started on the dishes. He went back to the TV, and after I finished washing the dishes by hand—no dishwasher—I went upstairs unwillingly to work on my maths homework.

*

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to recognise, if not name, almost all of the students at school. In Gym, the kids on my team learned not to pass me the ball and to step quickly in front of me if the other team tried to take advantage of my weakness. I happily stayed out of their way. 

Edward Cullen didn’t come back to school. 

Every day I watched until the Cullen family entered the cafeteria without him. Then I could relax and join in the lunchtime conversation. Mostly it centred around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks that Mike was putting together. I was invited, and I had agreed to go, more out of politeness than desire. Beaches should be hot and dry. 

By Friday I was perfectly comfortable entering my biology class, no longer worried that Edward would be there. For all I knew, he had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about it, but I couldn’t totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for his continued absence, and the continuing stares from his family weren’t helping to dissuade the notion. 

My first weekend in Forks passed without incident. Charlie, I used to spending time in the usually empty house, worked most of the weekend. I cleaned the house, got ahead on my homework and wrote my mum a more bogusly cheerful email. I did drive to the library Saturday, but it was so poorly stocked I didn’t bother to get a card; I would have to make a date to visit Olympia or Seattle soon and find a good bookstore. I wondered idly what kind of gas mileage the truck got... and shuddered at the thought 

The rain stayed soft over the weekend, quiet, so I was able to sleep well.

People greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning. I still didn’t know all their names, but I waved back and smiled at everyone. It was colder this morning, but happily not raining. In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on _Twelfth Night_. It was straightforward, very easy. 

All in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had ever expected to feel here. 

When we walked out of class, the air was full of swirling bits of white. I could hear people shouting excitedly to each other. The wind hit at my cheeks, my nose. 

“Wow,” Mike said. “It’s snowing.”

I looked at the little cotton fluffs that were building up along the sidewalk and swirling erratically past my face. 

“I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes—you know, each one unique and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips.”

“Haven’t you ever seen snow fall before?” He asked incredulously. 

“Sure I have.” I paused. “On TV.” 

Mike laughed. It _was_ kind of funny. Suddenly a big, squishy ball of dripping snow smacked into the back of his head. We both turned to see where it came from. I had my suspicions about Eric, who was walking away, his back towards us—in the wrong direction for his next class. Mike apparently had the same notion. He bent over and began scraping together a pile of white mush. 

“I’ll see you at lunch, okay?” I kept walking as I spoke. “Once people start throwing wet stuff, I go inside.”

He just nodded, his eyes on Eric’s retreating figure. 

Throughout the morning, everyone chattered excitedly about the snow; apparently it was the first snowfall of the new year. I could see the appeal, but I didn’t think I could get used to melted snow in my shoes. 

I walked alertly to the cafeteria with Jess after Spanish. Mush balls were flying everywhere. I kept a binder in my hands, ready to use it as a shield if necessary. Jess teased me mercilessly, but didn’t risk an attack after I threatened to beat her with a textbook. 

Mike caught up to us as we walked in the doors, laughing. He and Jess talked animatedly about the snow fight—pausing occasionally to continue in their mockery of me—as we got in line to buy food. I glanced towards the corner out of habit, and froze where I stood. There were five people sitting there. 

“Hey, Bella, what do you want?” Mike asked. 

I looked down; my ears were hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I hadn’t done anything wrong. 

“Bella, are you okay?” Jess tugged on my arm. “Were we being too mean? Mike said it was your first time seeing snow.” 

Her concern made me smile. “No, it’s fine guys. I’ll just get a soda today.” I caught up to the end of the line. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” She asked.

“Actually, I feel a little sick.” I said, my eyes on the floor. 

I waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table.

I sipped my soda slowly, my stomach churning. Twice Mike asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling. I told him it was nothing, but when Jess offered to take me to the nurses office, I wondered if I _should_ play it up and escape for the next hour. 

Ridiculous. I shouldn’t have to run away. 

I lifted my head a little and looked over at the Cullen’s again. They were laughing. Edward, Jasper and Emmett all had their hair entirely saturated with snow. Alice and Rosalie were leaning away as Emmett shook his dripping hair toward them. They were enjoying the snowy day, just like everyone else— only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

There was something different about them today, but I couldn’t quite pinpoint what that difference was.

“Bella, what are you staring at?” Jessica murmured, her eyes following my stare.

At that precise moment, Edward’s eyes flashed over to meet mine. 

I dropped my head, letting my hair fall to conceal my face. He hadn’t looked harsh or unfriendly, just curious, but I’d thought that on my first day. 

“Edward Cullen is staring at you,” Jessica giggled in my ear.

“He doesn’t look angry, does he?” I couldn’t help asking. 

“No,” she sounded confused by my question. “Should he be?” 

“I don’t think he likes me,” I confided.

“Oh, don’t worry, Bella, the Cullen’s don’t like anybody... well, they don’t notice anybody enough to like them.” 

I put my head down on my arm, humming in response. I still felt queasy. She wrapped her arm around me. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” 

I groaned theatrically, nodding into the table, and she laughed. She gave me a gentle shove and I raised my head, grinning. 

We tuned back into the group conversation; Mike was planning an epic battle of the blizzard in the parking lot after school, and wanted everyone to join. Jess agreed enthusiastically. The way she looked at Mike left little doubt that she would be up for anything he suggested. I kept silent. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared. 

I didn’t really want to walk to class with Mike—he seemed to be a popular target for the snowball snipers—but when we went to the door, everyone groaned in unison. It was raining, washing away all traces of the snow in clear icy ribbons down the side of the walkway.

I nudged Mike, “At least now, you psychopaths can’t attack me with your icy spheres of death.”

He looked offended for a split second before he registered the sarcasm and grinned.

“Oh yeah, Bella, because you’re gonna be so much warmer and dryer in this weather.” 

We kept up the bickering all the way to building four, and, although I would never admit it, I was beginning to wish for the dry snow by the time we got to the door. 

Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and a box of slides to each table. Class didn’t start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook. 

I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, by my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing. 

“Hello,” said a quiet voice.

I looked up, stunned that he was speaking to me. He was siting as far away from me as the desk allowed, by his chair was angled towards me. His face was friendly, with an open smile, but his eyes were careful. 

“My name is Edward Cullen,” he continued. “I did not get the chance to introduce myself last week.” 

I had to fight my urge to laugh. Yeah, that’s not what happened, buddy. 

“You must be Bella Swan.” 

“How do you know my name?” I asked sharply. 

He laughed. “Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town has been waiting for you to arrive.”

I grimaced. I knew it was something like that. 

“No,” I persisted. “I meant, why did you call me Bella?” 

He seemed confused. “Do you prefer Isabella?” 

“No, I like Bella,” I said. “But I think Charlie—I mean my dad—must call me Isabella behind my back—that’s what most people here seem to know me as.” I tried to explain, feeling like an utter moron. 

“Oh.” He looked away awkwardly. 

Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren’t supposed to use our textbooks. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right. 

“Get started,” he commanded. 

“Ladies first?” Edward asked. I looked up to see him smiling. I stared at him in disbelief, still baffled by the drastic change in demeanour from my first day. 

“Or I could start, if you wish.” The smile faded; he was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent. 

“No,” I said, flushing. “I’ll go ahead.” 

I was showing off, just a little. I’d already done this lab, and I knew what I was looking for. It should be easy. I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to to 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly. 

My assessment was confident. “Prophase.” 

Do you mind if I look?” He asked as I began to remove the slide. His hand caught mine, to stop me, as he asked. His fingers were ice cold, like he’d been holding them in a snowdrift before class, and I jerked my hand away quickly. 

“I apologise,” he muttered, pulling his hand back immediately. However, he continued to reach for the microscope. I watched him as he examined the slide for an even shorter time than I had. 

“Prophase,” he agreed, writing it neatly in the first space on our worksheet. He swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it cursorily. 

“Anaphase,” he said, writing it down as he spoke.

I kept my voice indifferent. “May I?” 

He smirked and pushed the microscope to me. 

I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed. Damn it, he was right. 

“Slide three?” I held out my hand without looking at him.

He handed it to me gingerly; it seemed like he was being careful not to touch my skin again. 

I took the most fleeting look I could manage.

“Interphase.” I passed him the microscope before he could ask for it. He took a swift peek, and then wrote it down. I would have written it while he looked, but his clear elegant script intimidated me. I didn’t want to spoil the page with my clumsy scrawl. 

We were finished before anyone else was close. I could see Mike and his partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open under the table. 

I glanced back at Edward, and he was staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes. Suddenly I identified that subtle difference in his face. 

“Did you get contacts?” I blurted out unthinkingly. 

He seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. “No.” 

“Oh,” I mumbled. “I thought there was something different about your eyes.” 

I thought I saw a look of panic briefly flit across his face, but then he shrugged and looked away.

"Must be the lights," he said, shoulders tensed. 

In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the flat black colour of his eyes the last time he’d glared at me, but today his eyes were a completely different colour: a sort of ocher. I didn’t understand how that could be, unless he was lying about the contacts for some reason. Or maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word. 

I looked down. His hands were clenched into hard fists again. 

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren’t working. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, and then stared more intently to check the answers. 

“So, Edward, didn’t you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?” Mr. Banner asked.

“Actually she identified three of the five.” 

Mr. Banner looked at me now; his expression was sceptical. 

“Have you done this lab before?” He asked.

I smiled sheepishly. “Not with onion root.” 

“Whitefish blastula?”

“Yeah.”

Mr. Banner nodded. “Were you in an advanced placement programme in Phoenix?” 

“Yes”

“Well,” he said after a moment. “I guess it’s good you two are lab partners.” He mumbled something else as he walked away. 

“It’s too bad about the snow isn’t it?” Edward asked. I had the feeling that he was forcing himself to make smalltalk with me. Paranoia swept over me again. It was like he had heard my conversation with Jess at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong.

“I guess,” I replied, trying to end the uncomfortable exchange before it went any further. I was still trying to dislodge the stupid feeling of suspicion. 

“You don’t like the cold?” He persisted. 

“Or the wet.”

“Forks must be a difficult place for you to live.” 

“You have no idea.” I muttered darkly. 

He looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn’t imagine. 

“Why did you come here, then?” As good as he was at Biology, this guy could apparently not take a hint. 

“It’s a long story.” 

“I think I can keep up.” He pressed. 

“It’s not a matter of understanding, it’s a matter of time, which we don’t have.” 

“Just... give me a one sentence summary.” 

I paused for a long moment. If it got him to leave me alone... 

“Looking after me was making my mother unhappy, because her husband travels. I came here so she didn’t have to.” 

“But now you’re unhappy,” he pointed out. 

“And?” I challenged. 

“That doesn’t seem fair.” He shrugged.

“Why does it matter to _you_?” I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds. 

“That’s a very good question,” he muttered, so quietly that I wondered if he was talking to himself. However, after a few seconds of silence. I decided that was the only answer I was going to get. 

I sighed, scowling at the blackboard. 

“Am I annoying you?” He asked. He sounded amused.

 _Yes._ “No.” 

There was a brief pause. 

“I find you very difficult to read.” He said. 

“You must be a very good reader then,” I replied dryly. 

“Usually.” He smiled. 

Mr. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned with relief to listen. Edward had seemed engrossed in our conversation, but now I could see, from the corner of my eye, that he was leaning away from me again, his hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakeable tension. 

I tried to appear attentive as Mr. Banner illustrated, with transparencies on the overhead projector, what I had seen without difficulty through the microscope. But my thoughts were unmanageable. 

When the bell rang, Edward rushed as swiftly from the room as he had last Monday. 

Mike skipped quickly to my side and picked up my books for me. I imagined him with a wagging tail. 

“That was awful,” he groaned. “They all looked exactly the same.” 

“I’ve done that lab before, if you want me to go over it with you some time?” I offered, remembering how much Blair had struggled with it. “Or you could borrow my notes?” 

He beamed at me, “That would be awesome, Bella! Thank you so much.” 

We walked to the front of the classroom and shrugged on our raincoats. 

“Cullen seemed friendly enough today,” he commented as we walked out of the classroom. He didn’t seem pleased about it. 

“Yeah, I wonder what was with him last Monday.” I replied.

Mike grunted discontentedly. As we made our way over to Gym, he struck up a debate over the worst science; he was firmly in the Biology column, while I fervently decried Chemistry. 

I couldn’t focus during Gym. Mike was in my team today, and he chivalrously covered my position as well as his own, so my woolgathering was only interrupted when it was my turn to serve; my team ducked warily out of the way every time I was up. 

The rain was just a mist as I walked to the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in the dry cab. I got the heater running, for once not caring about the mind numbing roar of the engine. I unzipped my jacket, put the hood down, and fluffed my damp hair out so the heater could dry it on the way home. 

I looked around my to make sure it was clear. That’s when I noticed the still, white figure. Rosalie Hale was leaning against the door of the Volvo, three doors down from me, looking at the truck with interest. Distracted, I threw the truck into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste. Luckily for the Toyota, I stomped on the brake just in time. It was just the sort of car that my truck would make scrap metal out of. I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but from a peripheral peek, I would swear I saw her laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so was Bella being harsher with Edward here? Maybe, but to be honest I think without his beautiful face confusing her into being honest, I think this is how it would go. 
> 
> I added in some more with the friends, let me know whether you liked it. 
> 
> I also kind of emphasised how reliant Reneè was on Bella. I saw a tumblr post a while back that laid out how her actions were kind of bordering on emotional abuse? I think? What with the Bella doing the bills and cooking and cleaning since she was like seven? Also when writing this chapter I noticed that in the original Bella says I love you to her mom in one of the emails and her mom never says it back, so I’m going to be playing around with that unhealthy dynamic a bit. 
> 
> Oh I also changed bellas conversation with Charlie about the Cullens so she says they could date somebody instead of the they’re attractive, because I feel like that’s a really weird comment to make, but talking about dating follows naturally from the “Oh they’re lonely” thing.


	4. Phenomenon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a bit more of a film rewrite, because the order and some scenes are different to the book, and I liked it more that way. I also never realised how much Bella just inserts random little oh fuck he’s hot moments into everything until I had to cut them out.

When I opened my eyes in the morning, something was different. 

It was the light. It was still the grey-green light of a cloudy day in the forest, but it was clearer somehow. I realised there was no fog ceiling my window. 

I jumped up to look outside, and then groaned in horror. 

A fine layer of snow covered the yard, dusted the top of my truck, and whitened the road. But that wasn’t the worst part. All the rain from yesterday had frozen solid—coating the needles on the trees in fantastic, gorgeous patterns, and making the driveway a deadly ice slick. I had enough trouble not falling down when the ground was dry; it might honestly be safer for me to go back to bed now. 

Charlie has left for work before I got downstairs. In a lot of ways, living with Charlie was like having my own place, and I found myself revelling in the aloneness instead of being lonely. It was a nice change from living with Renée—while I loved her, she had a tendency to be a tad overbearing, something I didn’t always appreciate. 

I threw down a quick bowl of cereal and some orange juice from the carton. I was still pondering over my conversation with Edward yesterday. I was suspicious of him, more so after he lied about his eyes. Why on earth would he need to lie? 

My inner Sherlock had to retire though, as it took every ounce of my concentration to make it down the icy brick driveway alive. I almost lost my balance when I finally got to the truck, but I managed to cling to the side mirror and save myself. Clearly, today was going to be nightmarish. 

Driving to school, I distracted myself from my fear of falling and speculations about Edward Cullen by thinking about the upcoming plans to go to La Push. When I had gone in day trips like it with my friends in Arizona, we’d always have a massive picnic, but I wasn’t sure if the Washington weather would cooperate. I could still make something though—it had been a while since I’d baked something, especially for fun rather than a dinner my mom was having. Brownies seemed like a nice option, especially if it got rainy. I’d been wanting to try a sea salt recipe for a while. A beach trip might be the perfect time. 

My truck seemed to have no problem with the black ice that covered the roads. I drove very slowly, though, not wanting to carve a path of destruction through Main Street. 

When I got out of my truck at school, I saw why I’d had so little trouble. Something silver caught my eye, and I walked to the back of the truck—carefully holding the side for support—to examine my tires. There were thin chains crisscrossed in diamond shapes around them. Charlie had gotten up who knows how early to put snow chains around my truck. 

My throat suddenly felt tight. I wasn’t used to being taken care of, and Charlie’s unspoken concern caught me by surprise. 

I was standing by the back corner of the truck, struggling to fight back the sudden wave of emotion the snow chains had brought on, when I heard an odd sound. 

It was a high-pitched screech, and it was fast becoming painfully loud. I looked up, startled. 

I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion, the way it’s does in the movies. Instead, the adrenaline rush seemed to make my brain work must faster, and I was able to absorb in clear detail several things at once. 

Edward Cullen was standing four cars down from me, staring at me in horror. His face stood out from a sea of faces, all frozen in the same mask of shock. But of more immediate importance was the dark blue can that was skidding, tires locked and squealing against the brakes, spinning wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It was going to hit the back corner of my truck, and I was standing between them. I didn’t even have time to close my eyes. 

Just before I heard the shattering crunch of the ban folding around the trunk bed, something hit me, hard, but not from the direction I was expecting. My head cracked against the icy blacktop, and I felt something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I was lying on the pavement behind the fan car I’d parked next to. But I didn’t have a chance to notice anything else, because the van was still coming. It had curled gratingly around the end of the truck and, still spinning and sliding, was about to collide with me _again_.

A low curse made me aware that someone was with me, and I immediately recognised the voice. Two long, white hands shot out protectively in front of me, and the van shuddered to a stop a foot from my face, the large hands fitting providentially into a deep dent in the side of the van’s body. 

Then his hands moved so fast they blurred. One was suddenly gripping under the body of the van, and something was dragging me, swinging my leg around like a rad doll’s, till they hit the tire of the tan car. A groaning metallic thud hurt my ears, and the van settled, glass popping, into the asphalt—exactly where, a second ago, my legs had been. 

It was absolutely silent for one long second before the screaming began. In the abrupt bedlam, I could hear more than one person shouting my name. But more clearly than all the yelling, I could hear Edward Cullen’s frantic voice in my ear. 

“Bella? Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” My voice sounded strange. I tried to sit up, and realised he was holding me against the side of his body in an iron grasp. 

“Be careful,” he warned as I struggled. “I think you hit your head pretty hard.”

I became aware of a throbbing ache centred above my left ear. 

“Ow,” I said, surprised. 

“That’s what I thought.” His voice, amazingly, sounded like he was suppressing laughter. 

“How in the...” i trailed off, trying to clear my head, get my bearings. “How did you get over here so fast?” 

“I was standing right next to you, Bella,” he said, his tone serious again. 

I turned to sit up, and this time he let me, releasing his hold around my waist and sliding as far from my as he could in the limited space. My head spun as I tried to shuffle into a more upright position. What was I asking him? 

And then they found us, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, shouting at us. 

“Don’t move,” someone instructed. 

“Get Tyler our of the van!” Someone else shouted. There was a flurry of activity around us. I tried to get up again, but Edward’s cold hand pushed my shoulder down.

“Just stay put for now.”

“But it’s cold,” I complained. It surprised me when he chuckled under his breath. There was an edge to the sound. 

“You were over there,” I suddenly remembered, and his chuckles stopped. “You were by you car.”

His expression turned hard. “No, I was not.” 

“I saw you.” All around us was chaos. I could hear the gruffest voices of adults arriving on the scene. But I obstinately held on to our argument; I was right, and he was going to admit it.

“Bella, I was standing with you, and I pulled you out of the way.” 

“No.” I set my jaw. 

“Please Bella.” 

“Why?” I demanded. 

“Trust me,” he pleaded, his normally soothing voice uncharacteristically rough. 

I could hear the sirens now. “Will you promise to explain everything to me later?” 

“Fine,” he snapped, abruptly exasperated. 

“Fine,” I repeated angrily.

It took six EMTs and two teachers—Mr. Varner and Coach Clapp—to shift the van far enough away to bring the stretchers in. Edward vehemently refused his, and I tried to do the same, but the traitor told them I’d hit my head and probably had a concussion. I almost died of humiliation when they put in the neck brace. It looked like the entire school was there, watching soberly as they loaded me in the back of the ambulance. Edward got to ride in the front. It was maddening. 

To make matters worse, Charlie arrived before they could get me safely away. 

“Bella!” He yelled in panic when he recognised me on the stretcher. 

“I’m completely fine Char—Dad,” I sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” 

He turned to the closest EMT for a second opinion. I tuned him out to consider the jumble of inexplicable images churning chaotically in my head. When they’d lifted my away, I had seen the deep dent in the tan cars bumper—a dent that looked suspiciously like the outline of shoulders... as if Edward had braced himself against the car with enough force to damage the metal frame...

And then there was his family, looking on from the distance, with expressions that ranged from disapproval to fury, but held no hint of concern for their brothers safety. 

I tried to think of a logical solution that could explain what I had just seen—a solution that excluded the assumption that I was insane. 

Naturally, the ambulance got a police escort to the county hospital. I felt ridiculous the whole time they were unloading me. What made it worse was that Edward simply glided through the hospital doors. I ground my teeth together. 

They put me in the emergency room, a long room with a line of beds separated by pastel-patterned curtains. A nurse put a pressure cuff on my arm and a thermometer under my tongue. Since no one bothered pulling the curtain around to give me some privacy, I decided I wasn’t obligated to wear the stupid-looking neck brace anymore. When the nurse walked away, I quickly unfastened the Velcro and there it under the bed. 

There was another flurry of hospital personnel, another stretcher brought to the bed next to me. I recognised Tyler Crowley from my Government class beneath the bloodstained bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Type looked a hundred times worse than I felt. But he was staring anxiously at me. 

“Bella, I’m so sorry!” 

“I’m fine, Tyler—you look awful, are you alright?” As we spoke, nurses began unwinding his soiled bandages, exposing a myriad of shallow slices all over his forehead and left cheek. 

He ignored me. “I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast and I hit the ice wrong...” he winced as one nurse started dabbing his face. 

“Don’t worry about it; you missed me.” 

“How did you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone...” 

“Umm...Edward Cullen pulled me out of the way.” 

He looked confused. “Cullen? I didn’t see him... wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay?” 

“I think so. He’s here somewhere but they didn’t make him use a stretcher.”

They wheeled me away then, to X-ray my head. I told them there was nothing wrong, and I was right. Not even a concussion. I asked if I could leave, but the nurse said I had to talk to a doctor first. So I was trapped in the ER, waiting, harassed by Tyler’s constant apologies and promised to make it up to me. No matter how many times I tried to convince him I was fine, he continued to torment himself. Finally, I closed my eyes and ignored him. He kept up a remorseful mumbling. 

“Is she sleeping?” My eyes flew open. 

Edward was standing at the foot of my bed, smirking. I glared at him. 

“Hey, Edward, I’m really sorry—“ Tyler began. 

Edward lifted a hand to stop him. 

“No blood, no foul,” he said, smirking. He moved to sit on the edge of Tyler’s bed, facing me. 

“So, what’s the verdict?” He asked me. 

“There’s nothing wrong with me at all, but they won’t let me go,” I complained. “How come you aren’t strapped to a gurney like the rest of us?”

“It’s all about who you know,” he answered. “But do not worry, I came to spring you.” 

Then a doctor walked around the corner, and my mouth fell open. He was young, blond... even I could tell he was attractive. He was pale though, and tired looking, with circles under his eyes. From Charlie’s description, this had to be Dr. Cullen. 

“So, Miss Swan,” Dr. Cullen said in a remarkably soothing voice, “how are you feeling?” 

“I’m fine,” I said, for the last time, I hoped. 

He walked to the light board on the wall over my head and turned it on. 

“Your X-rays look good,” he said. “Does your head hurt? Edward said you hit it pretty hard.”

“It’s fine,” I repeated with a sigh, throwing a scowl toward Edward. 

I thought I saw Dr. Cullen suppress a smile. 

“Do you mind?” He asked, reaching out towards me. I shook my head. The doctor’s cool fingers probed lightly along my skull. He noticed when I winced. 

“Tender?” He asked. 

“Not really.” I’d had worse. 

I heard a chuckle, and looked over to see Edward’s patronising smile. My eyes narrowed. 

“Well, your father is in the waiting room—you can go home with him now. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all.”

“Can’t I go back to school?” I asked, imagining a day of Charlie trying to play nursemaid. 

“Maybe you should take it easy today.” 

I glanced at Edward. “Does _he_ get to go to school?”

“Someone has to spread the good news we survived,” Edward said smugly. 

_Ugh_

I threw my legs over the side of the bed and hopped down quickly. Too quickly—I staggered and Dr. Cullen caught me. He looked concerned. 

“I’m fine,” I assured him again. No need to tell him me balance problems had nothing to do with hitting my head. 

“Take some Tylenol for the pain,” he suggested as he steadied me. 

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” I insisted. 

“It sounds like you were extremely lucky,” Dr. Cullen said, smiling as he signed my chart with a flourish. 

“Lucky Edward happened to be standing next to me,” I amended with a hard glance at the subject of my statement. 

“Oh, well, yes,” Dr. Cullen agreed, suddenly occupied with the papers in front of him. Then he looked away, at Tyler, and walked to the next bed. My intuition flickered; the doctor was in on it. Whatever _it_ was.

“I’m afraid that _you’ll_ have to stay with us just a little bit longer,” he said to Tyler, and began checking his cuts. 

It took me a few minutes—my experience of leaving the bed had made me cautious—but I made my way slowly to the exit at the end of the hallway. As I entered the waiting room, Charlie rushed to me side; I put up my hands. 

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” I assured him. 

“What did the doctor say?” 

“Dr. Cullen saw me, and he said I was fine and I could go home.” I sighed. Mike and Jessica and Eric were all there, looking concerned. I made some vague gestures communicating that I was tired and was going home, and they nodded understandingly. 

Charlie put one arm behind my back, not quite touching me, and led to the glass doors of the exit. I waved goodbye to my friends. It was a huge relief—the first time I’d ever felt that way—to get into the cruiser. 

Instead of starting the engine, Charlie looked sideways at me, guiltily. 

“Um... you need to call Renée.” 

I was appalled. “You told mom?!”

“Sorry.” 

I sighed, opening the door of the cruiser again, and stepped out, walking back into the lobby of the hospital. I ended up by the corridor leading to the rest of the building, and was just about to dial when I heard an angry voice just around the corner. 

“...saw what happened!” 

“What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just let her die.” The voice that replied was equally furious, and it took me a moment to recognise it as Edward’s. 

“This isn’t just about you,” I peered around the corner and saw Edward, Dr. Cullen and a blonde girl—Rosalie—stood together. “It’s about all of us.”

“I know that Rose. I was doing it _for_ us, particularly for you.”

Carlisle made eye contact with me, and interrupted before Rosalie could respond. 

“I think we should take this somewhere else.” He said, nodding towards me. 

The two siblings turned their glares on me. 

“Um, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked Edward, trying to ignore the resentment being directed at me. He took a step back from me, his jaw clenched. 

“Your father is waiting for you,” he said through his teeth. 

Rosalie snorted. “Oh, so this is where he draws the line,” she muttered under her breath. Carlisle shushed her, and started to move away. 

“I’d like to speak with you alone, if you don’t mind,” I pressed. 

“Fine.” He ground out. 

Rosalie rolled her eyes, and turned to follow her father. Edward grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the now empty lobby. 

“What do you want?” He asked, sounding annoyed. His eyes were cold. 

His unfriendliness intimidated me. My words came out with less severity than I’d intended. “You owe me an explanation,” I reminded him. 

“I saved your life—I don’t owe you anything.” 

I flinched back from the resentment in his voice. “You promised.”

“Bella, you hit your head, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” His tone was cutting. 

My temper flared now, and I glared defiantly at him. “There’s nothing wrong with my head.” 

He glared back. “What do you want from me, Bella?”

“I want to know the truth,” I said. “I want to know why I’m lying for you.” 

“What do you _think_ happened?” He snapped. 

It came out in a rush.

“All I know is that you weren’t anywhere near me—Tyler didn’t see you either so don’t tell me I hit my head too hard. That van was going to crush us both—and it didn’t, and you hands left dents in the side of it—and you left a dent in the other car, and you’re not hurt at all—and the van should have smashed my legs, but you were holding it up...” I could hear how crazy it sounded, and I couldn’t continue. I was so mad I could feel the tears coming; I tried to force them back by grinding my teeth together. 

He was staring at me incredulously. But his stance was tense, defensive. 

“You think I lifted a van off you?” It was like a perfectly delivered line by a skilled actor. He wasn’t succeeding in making me less suspicious. 

I merely nodded, jaw tight. 

“Nobody will believe that, you know.” His voice held an edge of derision now. 

“I’m not going to tell anybody.” I said each word slowly, carefully controlling my anger. 

Surprise flitted across his face. “Then why does it matter?”

“It matters to me,” I insisted. “I don’t like to lie—so there’s better be a good reason why I’m doing it.”

“Can’t you just thank me and get over it?”

“Thank you.” I waited, fuming and expectant. 

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?” 

“No.”

“In that case...I hope you enjoy disappointment.” 

We scowled at each other in silence. I was the first to break.

“Why did you even bother?” I asked frigidly.

He paused, and for a brief moment his face unexpectedly softened. 

“I trust Alice.” He said, a distant smile on his face. 

And with yet another cryptic comment hanging in the air, he turned his back on me and walked away. 

I was so angry, it took me a few minutes until I could move. When I could walk, I made my way slowly back into the lobby. I still needed to call my mom.

She was in hysterics, of course. I had to tell her I felt fine at least thirty times before she would calm down. She begged me to come home—forgetting the fact that home was empty at the moment—but her pleas were easier to resist than I thought. I was consumed by the mystery Edward and his family presented. 

I decided I might as well go to bed early that night. Charlie continued to watch me anxiously, and it was getting on my nerves. I stopped on my way to my room to grab three Tylenol from the bathroom. They did help, and, as the pain eased, I drifted to sleep.


	5. Invitation

The next day I woke to concerned emails from my old friends, who’d been contacted by a hysterical Renée, regaling them with the story of my near demise. I shot off a quick explanation to all of them—excluding Blair, whose joking “next time finish the job”, was met with an equally dry “What do you think I’m trying to do”—and made my way to school. 

The month following the accident was uneasy, tense, and, at first, embarrassing. 

To my dismay, I found myself the centre of attention for the rest of that week. Tyler Crowley was impossible, following me around, obsessed with making amends to me somehow. I tried to convince him what I wanted more than anything else was for him to forget all about it—especially since nothing had actually happened to me—but he remained insistent. He followed me between classes and sat at our now-crowded lunch table. Mike and Eric were even less friendly toward him than they were to each other, which made me worry that I’d gained another unwelcome fan. 

No one seemed concerned about Edward, though I explained over and over that he was the hero—how he had pulled me out of the way, and had nearly been crushed, too. I tried to be convincing. Jessica, Mike, Eric, and everyone else always commented that they hadn’t even seen him there until the van was pulled away. 

Edward was never surrounded by crowds of curious bystanders eager for his firsthand account. People avoided him as usual. The Cullens and the Hales sat at the same table as always, taking only amongst themselves. 

When he sat next to me in class, he had retreated again—not as far as that first day, but no more effort at conversation beyond a cursory “Good morning.” Only now and then, when his fists would suddenly ball up, did I wonder if he wasn’t quite as oblivious as he appeared. 

He wished he hadn’t pulled me from the path of Tyler’s van—there was no other conclusion that I could come to. 

I wanted very much to talk to him, and the day after the accident I tried. The last time I’d seen him, outside the ER, we’d both been so furious. I still was angry that he wouldn’t trust me with the truth, even though I was keeping my part of the bargain flawlessly. But he had in fact saved my life, no matter how he’d done it. 

He was already seated when I got to Biology, looking straight ahead. I sat down, expecting him to turn toward me. 

“Hey, Edward, can we talk?” 

He turned towards me, not meeting my gaze. 

“Good morning, Bella.” He replied, ignoring my question entirely. 

That was the last attempt I’d made, though he was there, a foot away from me, every day. I watched him sometimes, from a distance though, seeing his—and his family’s—eyes grow perceptively darker day by day. But in class I gave him no more notice than he showed toward me. 

Despite my consistent cheerful tone—disregarding Edward and the accident, life in Forks was beginning to grow on me—Renée became increasingly suspicious. She called a few times, asking if I wanted to come home. I tried to convince her of my happiness, but that seemed to only encourage her. 

Mike, at least, was pleased by the obvious coolness between me and my lab partner. I could see he’d been worried that Edward’s daring rescue might have impressed me, and he was relieved that it seemed to have the opposite effect. He grew more confident, sitting on the edge of my table to talk before Biology started, ignoring Edward as completely as he ignored us. 

The snow washed away for good after that one dangerously icy day. Mike was disappointed he’d never gotten to stage his snowball fight, but pleased that the beach trip would soon be possible. The rain continued heavily, though, and the weeks passed. 

Jessica made me ware of another event looming on the horizon—she called the first Tuesday of March to ask my permission to invite Mike to the girl’s choice spring dance in two weeks. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind...you weren’t planning to ask him?” She persisted when I told her I didn’t mind in the least. 

“No, don’t worry, Jess, I’m not interested in Mike, and I’m not going anyway,” I assured her. Dancing was glaringly outside my range of abilities. 

“It will be really fun.” She seemed more excited now she was sure I wasn’t after her crush. 

“You have fun with Mike,” I encouraged, smiling to myself. It was hard to refuse Jess, but I knew it would be safer for everyone if I didn’t subject them to my dancing. 

The next day, I was surprised that Jess wasn’t her usual gushing self in Trig and Spanish. She was silent as she walked by my side between classes, and I was afraid to ask her why. If Mike has turned her down, I was the last person she would want to tell. 

My fears were strengthened during lunch when Jess sat as far from Mike as possible, chatting animatedly with Eric. Mike was unusually quiet. 

Mike was still quiet as he walked me to class, the uncomfortable look on his face a bad sign. But he didn’t broach the subject until I was in my seat and he was perched on my desk. As always, I was uncomfortably aware of Edward sitting close enough to touch, as distant as if he were merely an invention of my imagination. 

“So,” Mike said, looking at the floor, “Jessica asked me to the spring dance.”

Shit.

“That’s great.” I made my voice bright and enthusiastic. “You’ll have a lot of fun with Jessica.”

“Well...” He floundered as he examined my smile, clearly not happy with my response. “I told her I had to think about it.”

Extra shit. 

“Why would you do that?” I let disapproval colour my tone, though I was relieved he hadn’t given her an absolute no. 

His face was bright red as he looked down again. Pity shook my resolve. 

“I was wondering if...well, if you might be planning to ask me.”

I’m running out of curses over here Mike. 

I paused, hating the wave of guilt that swept through me. But I saw, from the corner of my eye, Edward’s head tilt reflexively in my direction. 

“Mike, I think you should tell her yes,” I said. 

“Did you already ask someone?” Did Edward notice how Mike’s eyes flicked in his direction? 

“No,” I assured him. Not many girls for me to ask here. “I’m not going to the dance at all.”

“Why not?” Mike demanded.

I didn’t really want to out myself to a whole class of potential enemies, and the safety hazards of dancing were too much to get into, so I quickly made new plans. 

“I’m going to Seattle that Saturday,” I explained. I needed to get out of town anyway—it was suddenly the perfect time to go. 

“Can’t you go some other weekend?” 

“Sorry, no,” I said, patience waning. “So you shouldn’t make Jess wait any longer—it’s rude.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbled, and turned, dejected, to walk back to his seat. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to me temples, trying to push the guilt and sympathy out of my head. Mr. Banner began talking. I sighed and opened my eyes. 

And Edward was staring at me curiously, that same, familiar edge of frustration even more distinct now in his black eyes. 

I stared back, surprised, expecting him to look quickly away. But instead he continued to gaze with probing intensity into my eyes. 

“Mr. Cullen?” The teacher called, seeking the answer to a question that I hadn’t heard. 

“The Krebs Cycle,” Edward answered, seeming reluctant as he turned to look at Mr. Banner. 

I looked down at my book as soon as his eyes released me, trying to find my place. Cowardly as ever, I shifted my hair over my right shoulder to hide my face.

When the bell rang at last, I turned my back to him to gather my things, expecting him to leave immediately as usual. 

“Bella?” 

I turned slowly, unwillingly. My expression was wary when I finally turned to him; his expression was unreadable. He didn’t say anything. 

“What? Are you speaking to me again?” I finally asked, an unintentional note of petulance in my voice. 

His lines twitched, fighting a smile. “No, not really,” he admitted. 

I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly through my nose, aware that I was gritting my teeth. He waited. 

“Then what do you want, Edward?” I asked, keeping my eyes closed. 

“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere. “I’m being very rude, I know. But it’s better this way, really.” 

I opened my eyes. His face was very serious. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, my voice guarded. 

“It’s better if we’re not friends.” He explained. “At least for a while.”

My eyes narrowed. 

“It’s too bad you didn’t figure that out earlier,” I hissed through my teeth. “You could have saved yourself all this regret.” 

“Regret?” The word, and my tone, obviously caught him off guard. “Regret for what?” 

“For not just letting that stupid van crush me.”

He was astonished. He stared at me in disbelief. 

When he finally spoke, he almost sounded mad. “You think I regret saving your life?” 

“I know you do,” I snapped. 

“You don’t know anything.” He was definitely mad. 

I turned my head sharply away from him, clenching my jaw against all the wild accusations I wanted to hurl at him. I gathered my books together, then stood and walked to the door. I meant to sweep dramatically out of the room, but of course I caught the toe of my boot on the door jamb and dropped my books. I stood there for a moment, thinking about leaving them. Then I sighed and bent to pick them up. He was there; he’d already stacked them into a pile. He handed them to me, his face hard. 

“Thank you,” I said icily. 

His eyes narrowed. 

“You’re welcome,” he retorted. 

I straightened up swiftly, turned away from him again, and stalked off to Gym without looking back. 

Gym was brutal. We’d moved in to basketball. My team never passed me the ball, so that was good, but I fell down a lot. Sometimes I took people with me. 

It was a relief, as always, to leave. I almost ran to my the truck; there was just so many people I wanted to avoid. The truck had suffered only minimal damage in the accident. I’d had to replace the taillights, and if I’d had a real paint job, I would have touched that up. Tyler’s parents had to sell their van for parts. 

I almost had a stroke when I rounded the corner and saw a talk, dark figure leaning against the side of my truck. Then I realised it was just Eric. I started walking again. 

“Hey, Eric,” I called. 

“Hi, Bella.” 

“What’s up?” I said as I was unlocking the door. I wasn’t paying attention the the uncomfortable edge in his voice, so his next words took me by surprise. 

“Uh, I was just wondering...if you would go to the spring dance with me?” His voice broke on the last word. 

“I thought I was the girls’ choice,” I said, too startled to be diplomatic. 

“Well, yeah,” he admitted, shamefaced. 

I recovered my composure and tried to make my smile warm. “Thank you for asking me, but I’m going to be in Seattle that day.”

“Oh,” He said. “Well, maybe next time.”

“Sure,” I agreed, and then but my lip. I wouldn’t want him to take that too literally.

He slouched off, back toward the school. I heard a low chuckle. 

Edward was walking past the front of my truck, looking straight forward, his lips pressed together. I yanked the door open and jumped inside, slamming it loudly behind me. I revved the engine deafeningly and reversed out into the aisle. Edward was in his car already, two spaces down, sliding out smoothly in front of me, cutting me off. He stopped there—to wait for his family, I assumed; I could see the four of them walking this way, but they were still by the cafeteria. I considered taking out the rear of his shiny Volvo, but there were too many witnesses. I looked in my rear view mirror. A line was beginning to form. Directly behind me, Tyler Crowley was in his recently acquired used Sentra, waving. I was too aggravated to acknowledge him. 

While I was sitting there, looking everywhere but the car in front of me, I heard a knock on my passenger side window. I looked over; it was Tyler. I glanced back in my rear view mirror, confused. His car was still running, the door left open. I leaned across the cab to crank the window down. It was stiff. I got it halfway down, then gave up. 

“I’m sorry, Tyler, I’m stuck behind Cullen.” I was annoyed—obviously the holdup wasn’t my fault. 

“Oh, I know—I just wanted to ask you something while we’re trapped here.” He grinned. 

This could not be happening. 

“Will you ask me to the spring dance?” He continued. 

“I’m not going to be in town, Tyler.” My voice sounded a little sharp. I had to remember it wasn’t his fault that Mike and Eric has already used up my quota of patience for the day.

“Yeah, Mike said that,” he admitted. 

“Then why—“

He shrugged. “I was hoping you were just letting him down easy.” 

Okay, it was completely his fault. 

“So why would I say yes to you then?” I snapped.

“Come on, Bella.” He smirked and leaned against the side of my truck. “I’m a better option than Mike, and we all know that.” 

“No Tyler, you’re not.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I talked over him. “Mike is lovely, and you are anything but.”

“Well, if you like him so much, why didn’t you say yes to him then?” He spat back at me. 

”I don’t see how it’s any of your fucking business.” 

”Oh, I get it,” He sneered. “You flirt with him, you flirt with me, we make a move like you _obviously_ want us to, and then you get scared? You’re a fucking tease Bella.” 

My hands were shaking on the steering wheel. “I didn’t flirt with either of you, you asshole.”

He snorted derisively. “Sure, Bella. Face it, you’re a bitch who doesn’t want to own up to it.”

”I didn’t flirt with either of you, dickhead.” I tried not to raise my voice, because I could see our fight was gaining some onlookers. 

”And why would I believe that?”

“Because I’m fucking gay, Tyler!”

My stomach dropped as soon as the words left my mouth. There were tears brimming in my eyes. 

He blinked, anger quickly giving way to shock. After a moment, he leered. 

“Ah, I get it. Don’t worry—we still have prom. Bring a girl and it’ll be a party. As long as she’s not a dyke.” 

Before I could respond, he was walking back to his car. I could feel the horror on my face. I looked forward to see Alice and Jasper sliding into the Volvo. Emmett appeared to be forcing Rosalie in after them. In his rear view mirror, Edward’s eyes were on me. He was unquestionably shaking with laughter, as if he’d heard every word Tyler had said. My foot itched toward the gas pedal...one little bump wouldn’t hurt any of them, just that glossy silver paint job. I revved the engine. 

But they were all in, and Edward was speeding away. I drove home slowly, carefully, muttering to myself the whole way. 

When I got home, I decided to make chicken enchiladas for dinner, to distract myself. My heart was still pounding. It was a long process, and it would keep me busy. While I was simmering the onions and chillies, the phone rang. I was almost too afraid to answer it, but it might be Charlie or my mom. 

It was Jess, and she was jubilant; Mike had caught her after school to accept her invitation. I celebrated with her briefly while I stirred. She had to go, she wanted to call Angela and Lauren. No mention of any other news—thank god. I suggested (with casual innocence) that maybe Angela, the shy girl in my Biology, could ask Eric. And Lauren, a standoffish girl who had always ignored me at the lunch table, could ask Tyler; I’d heard he was still available. I tried to disguise the shaking in my voice. Jess thought that was a great idea. She asked again if I could make it. I gave her my Seattle excuse. 

After I hung up, I tried to concentrate on dinner—dicing the chicken especially; I didn’t want to take another trip to the emergency room. But my head was spinning, trying to analyse every word Edward had spoken today, in a half-hearted attempt to ignore what happened with Tyler. What did he mean, it was better if we weren’t friends? _For now?_

Well, that was fine. I could leave him alone. I would get through the rest of high school, and then hopefully some school in the Southwest, or possibly Hawaii, would offer me a scholarship. I focused my thoughts on sunny beaches and palm trees as I finished the enchiladas and put them in the oven. 

Charlie seemed suspicious when he came home and smelled the green peppers. I couldn’t blame him—the closest edible Mexican food was probably in Southern California. But he was a cop, even if just a small-town cop, so he was brave enough to take the first bite. He seemed to like it. It was fun to watch as he slowly began trusting me in the kitchen.

“Dad?” I asked when he was almost done. 

“Yeah, Bella?”

“Um, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to Seattle for the day a week from Saturday...if that’s okay?” I didn’t want to ask permission—it set a bad precedent—but I felt rude, so I tacked it on the end. 

“Why?” He sounds surprised, as if he were unable to imagine something that Forks couldn’t offer. 

“Well, I wanted to get a few books—the library here is pretty limited—and maybe look at some clothes.” I had more money than I was used to having, since, thanks to Charlie, I hadn’t had to pay for a car. Not that the truck didn’t cost me quite a bit in the gas department. 

“That truck probably doesn’t get very good gas mileage,” he said, echoing my thoughts. 

“I know, I’ll stop in Montesano and Olympia—and Tacoma if I have to.”

“Are you going all by yourself?” He asked, and I couldn’t tell if he was suspicious I had a secret girlfriend or just worried about the car trouble.

“Yeah.”

“Seattle is a big city—you could get lost,” he fretted.

“Dad, Phoenix is five times the size of Seattle—and I can read a map, don’t worry about it.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I tried to be crafty as I hid my horror.

“That’s all right, Dad, I’ll probably just be in dressing rooms all day—very boring.”

“Oh, okay.” The thought of sitting in women’s clothing stores for any period of time immediately put him off. 

“Thanks.” I smiled at him.

“Will you be back in time for the dance?”

Ah right. Small town, chief of police. Of course he knew when the events were—a risk of teen drinking was deathly serious here, where the most exciting crime ever committed was an old lady shoplifting some scratch cards. 

“No—I don’t dance, Dad.” He, of all people, should understand that—I didn’t get my balance problems from my mother. 

He did understand. “Oh, that’s right,” he realised. 

I was about to go to bed when I remembered something. 

“Oh, Dad?”

“Yeah Bells?”

“You might be getting some questions about me in the next few weeks. A boy was being too pushy asking for a date today and, well...” 

“Oh, okay sweetheart.” He paused. “Do I need to talk to him?”

I smiled limply. “No thanks Dad, I can handle it.”

He hummed in confirmation, and I went upstairs to my room. 

*

The next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot, I deliberately parked as far as possible from the silver Volvo. I didn’t want to put myself in the path of too much temptation and end up owing him a new car. Getting out of the cab, I fumbled with my key and it fell into a puddle at my feet. As I bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and grabbed it before I could. I jerked upright. Edward Cullen was right next to me, leaning casually against my truck.

“How do you do that?” I asked, irritated.

“Do what?” He held my key out as he spoke. As I reached for it, he dropped it into my palm. 

“Appear out of thin air.”

“Bella, it’s not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant.” His voice was quiet, as usual.

I scowled at him. His eyes were light again today, a deep gold colour. 

“Why the traffic jam last night?” I demanded. “I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don’t exist, but irritating me to death.”

“That was for Tyler’s sake, not mine. I had to give him his chance.” He snickered.

“You...” I gasped. I couldn’t think of a bad enough word. It felt like the heat of my anger should physically burn him, but he only seemed more amused. 

“And I’m not pretending you don’t exist,” he continued.

“So you’re trying to irritate me to death? Since Tyler’s van didn’t do the job?”

Anger flashed in his eyes. His lips pressed into a hard line, all signs of humour gone. 

“Bella, you are utterly absurd.” He said, his low voice cold.

My palms tingles—I wanted so badly to hit something. I was surprised at myself. I was usually a nonviolent person. I turned my back and started to walk away.

“Wait,” he called. I kept walking, sloshing angrily through the rain. But he was next to me, easily keeping pace.

“I’m sorry, that was rude.” He said as we walked. I ignored him. “I’m not saying it isn’t true,” he continued, “but it was rude to say it, anyway.”

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” I grumbled.

“I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me,” he chuckled. He seemed to have recovered his good humour.

“Do you have multiple personality disorder?” I asked severely. 

“You’re doing it again.”

I sighed. “Fine then. What do you want to ask?”

“I was wondering if, a week from Saturday—you know, the day of the spring dance—“

“Are you trying to be _funny_?” I interrupted him, wheeling around toward him. My face got drenched as I looked up at his expression.

His eyes were wickedly amused. “Will you please allow me to finish?” 

I bit my lip and clasped my hands together, interlocking my fingers, so I couldn’t do anything rash.

“I heard you say you were going to Seattle that day, and I was wondering if you wanted a ride.”

That was unexpected.

“What?” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

“Do you want a ride to Seattle?”

“With who?” I asked, mystified.

“Myself, obviously.” He enunciated every syllable, as if he were talking to someone mentally handicapped.

I was still stunned. “ _Why?_ ”

“Well, I was planning to go to Seattle in the next few weeks, and, to be honest, I’m not sure if your truck can make it.”

“My truck works just fine, thank you very much for your concern.” I started to walk away again, but I was too surprised to maintain the same level of anger.

“But can your truck make it there on one tank of gas?”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.” Stupid, shiny Volvo owner.

“The wasting of finite resources is everyone’s business.” 

How dare he make a good joke when I’m being angry at him.

“Honestly, Edward, I can’t keep up with you. I thought you didn’t want to be my friend.”

“I said it would be better if we weren’t friends, not that I didn’t want to be.”

“Oh, thanks, now that’s _all_ cleared up.” Heavy sarcasm. I realised I had stopped walking again. We were under the shelter of the cafeteria roof now, so I could look into his face.

“It would be more... _prudent_ for you not to be my friend,” he explained. “But I have it on good authority that it’s better now.”

I stared at him in confusion.

“Will you go with me to Seattle?” He asked.

I paused, then nodded. I could save money on gas, at least, and maybe try to uncover a bit more of the mystery surrounded the Cullens. 

He smiled briefly, then turned abruptly and walked back the way we’d come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was gonna make the people at her school nice, but Tyler is the exception. Maybe Lauren also but I really don’t know yet.


	6. Blood Type

I made my way to English in a daze. I didn’t even realise when I first walked in that class had already started.

“Thank you for joining us, Miss Swan,” Mr. Mason said in a disparaging tone. 

I flushed and hurried to my seat. 

It wasn’t until class ended that I realised Mike wasn’t sitting in his usual seat next to me. I felt a twinge of guilt. But he and Eric both met me at the door as usual, looking sheepish, so I figured we were alright. Mike seemed to become more himself as we walked, gaining enthusiasm as he talked about the weather report for his weekend. The rain was supposed to take a minor break, so maybe his beach trip would be possible. I tried to sound eager. It was hard; rain or no rain, it would still only be in the high forties, if we were lucky. 

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. I felt as if everyone was looking at me, but I couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or reality. I didn’t know who had heard my outburst yesterday, or what Tyler had said. Jess was definitely watching me out of the corner of her eye when we met to go to lunch. 

“I need to talk to you.” Jess murmured as we entered the cafeteria. 

Fuck.

Upon seeing my panicked look she giggled. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

I smiled back, and gave the cafeteria a cursory look, pausing at the Cullen table with only three occupants. Rosalie was glaring at me, but Emmet and Jasper seemed to be talking normally. Had Alice and Edward had gone home?

“I wonder why Alice and Edward are sitting alone today,” Jessica said.

My head snapped up. I followed her gaze to see the two Cullens at an empty table across the cafeteria from where they usually sat. Once she’d caught my eye, Alice raised one hand and motioned for me to join them. As I stared in disbelief, she winked. God, she was pretty. I couldn’t quite tell from far away, but it looked like she’d done some convoluted makeup look, which didn’t make it easier on me. I tried not to blush. 

“Huh,” Jess said. “Not the ones I’d expected.”

I looked at her in confusion, and she smirked. “Never mind. You should go see what they want.” 

I could feel her watching as I walked away. 

When I reached their table, I stood awkwardly behind a chair, unsure.

“Why don’t you sit with us today?” Edward asked, grinning. 

I sat down automatically, watching him with caution. He was still smiling. It was unnerving. I glanced over to see Alice watching me with anticipation. Now that I was closer, I could appreciate the detail in her eyeshadow; I couldn't help wondering how the hell she'd managed to do it before school. 

“This is different,” I finally managed.

“Well...” he paused, and then the rest of the words followed in a rush. “I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly.” 

Alice snickered. “Shut up, Edward,” she looked at me, “He means that we’re sure we can talk to you now.”

“Okay, because that makes more sense.” I replied. 

Alice smirked and inclined her head, and Edward snickered under his breath. 

“Your friends look angry at us for stealing you.”

I frowned at him. “They’ll survive.”

“We may not give you back, though,” Alice cut in, giggling. 

I gulped.

Edward laughed. “You look worried.”

“No,” I said. “Surprised, actually... what brought all this on?”

“I told you—it’s all good now.” He winked at Alice.

“So, in plain English, are we friends now?” My tone was impatient.

“Hopefully something more, if things keep going as they are.”

I gaped. “I don’t think—that’s not...”

“Don’t worry Bella, we know.” Alice interjected. “Edward’s just not the best at talking to people he’s not related to.”

He hit her. 

I blinked, and they both turned back to face me.

“What are you thinking?” Edward asked curiously. 

“I’m trying to figure out what you are.”

His jaw tightened, and Alice tensed, but they both kept their smiles in place.

“Are you having any luck with that?” He asked in an offhand tone. 

“Not too much,” I admitted. 

Alice chuckled. “What are your theories?” 

I blushed. I had been vacillating during the last month between Bruce Wayne and Peter Parker. There was no way I was going to own up to that. 

“Won’t you tell me?” She asked, tilting her head to one side. 

I shook my head. “Too embarrassing.”

“That’s _really_ frustrating, you know,” Edward complained. 

Christ it was like talking to tweedledum and tweedledee. 

“No,” I disagreed quickly, my eyes narrowing, “I can’t imagine why that would be frustrating at all—someone refusing to tell you what they’re thinking, even if all the while they’re making cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep you up at night wondering what they could possibly mean...now, why would that be frustrating?” 

He grimaced. 

“Or better,” I continued, the pent-up annoyance flowing freely now, “say that person did a wide range of bizarre things—from saving your life under impossible circumstances one day to treating you like a pariah the next, and he never explained any of that, either, even after he promised. That, also, would be _very_ non-frustrating.” 

“You’ve got a bit of a temper, don’t you?” Alice said wryly. 

“I don’t like double standards.” 

I stared at them unsmiling. 

Edward glanced over my shoulder, and then, unexpectedly, he snickered. 

“What?” 

“Jess seems to think I’m being unpleasant to you—she’s debating whether or not to come break up out fight.” He snickered again. 

“Is she wrong?” 

“I’m not sure yet. It’s still very hard to read you.” He paused. “I wonder why that is.” 

I had to look away from the intensity of his stare, instead concentrating on unscrewing the lid of my lemonade. I took a swig, staring at the table without seeing it. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Alice asked.

“No. You?” I looked pointedly at the empty table in front of them. 

“No, I’m not hungry.” I didn’t understand her expression—it looked like she was enjoying some private joke. 

“Can you do me a favour?” I asked after a seconds hesitation.

Alice looked eager to agree, but Edward stepped in. “That depends on what you want.” 

“It’s not much,” I assured him. 

He waited, guarded but curious. 

“I just wondered...if you could warn me beforehand the next time you decide to ignore me for my own good.” I looked at the lemonade bottle as I spoke, tracing the circle of the opening with my pinkie finger.

“That sounds fair.” He was pressing his lips together to keep from laughing when I looked up.

“Thanks.” 

“Can I have one answer in return?” Alice asked.

“One.” 

“Tell me _one_ theory.” 

Edward snickered. 

Whoops. “Not that one.”

“You didn’t qualify, you just promised one answer,” Edward interjected. 

“And you’ve broken promises yourself,” I reminded him back. 

“Just one theory—I won’t laugh.” Alice pleaded. 

“I might.” Edward murmured. 

I glared at him, then turned back to her. “Yes, you will.” 

“Please?” She gazed at me imploringly. “Please just tell me one little theory.” 

Damn. She looked like a kicked puppy.

“Um, well, bitten by a radioactive spider?”

“That’s not very creative,” Edward scoffed. 

“I’m sorry, that’s all I’ve got,” I said, miffed. 

“You’re not even close,” Alice said, disappointed.

“No spiders?”

“Nope.”

“And no radioactivity?”

“None.”

“Damn,” I sighed.

“Kryptonite doesn’t bother us, either,” Edward chuckled. 

“You’re not supposed to laugh, remember?” 

He struggled to compose himself. 

“I’ll figure it out eventually,” I warned him.

“That’s the point, Bella.” Alice was just as adept at cryptic comments as her brother, apparently. 

The silence lasted until I noticed that the cafeteria was almost empty. 

I jumped to my feet. “We’re going to be late.”

Edward glanced at Alice, who nodded almost imperceptibly. He looked down, stealing my bottle lid and then spinning it on its side between his fingers. 

“I’m not going to class today,” he said, twirling the lid so fast it was just a blur. 

“Why not?”

“It’s healthy to ditch class now and then.” He smiled up at me, but his eyes were troubled. 

“Well, I’m going.” I told him. I was far too big a coward to risk getting caught. 

He turned his attention back to his makeshift spinning top. “I’ll see you later then.”

I hesitated, torn, but then the first bell sent me hurrying out the door—with a last glance confirming they hadn’t moved an inch. 

As I half-ran to class, my head was spinning faster than the bottle cap. So few questions had been answered in comparison to how many new questions had been raised. At least the rain had stopped. 

I was lucky; Mr. Banner wasn’t in the room yet when I arrived. I settled quickly into my seat, aware that both Mike and Angela were staring at me. 

Mr. Banner came in the room then, calling the class to order. He was juggling a few small cardboard boxes in his arms. He put them down on Mike’s desk, telling him to start passing them around the class. 

“Okay, guys, I want you all to take one piece from each box,” he said as he produced a pair of rubber gloves from the pocket of his lab jacket and pulled them on. The sharp sound as the gloves snapped into place sounded like a cheesy horror sound bite. “The first should be an indicator card,” he went on, grabbing a white card with four squares marked on it and displaying it. “The second is a four pronged applicator—“ he held up something that looked like a nearly toothless hair pick “—and the third is a sterile micro-lancet.” He held up a small piece of blue plastic and split it open. The barb was invisible from this distance, but my stomach flipped. 

“I’ll be coming around with a dropper of water to prepare you cards, so please don’t start until I get to you.” He began at Mike’s table again, carefully putting one drop of water in each of the four squares. “Then I want you to carefully prick your finger with the lancet...” he grabbed Mike’s hand and jabbed the spike into the tip of Mike’s middle finger. Fuck. Clammy moisture broke out across my forehead. 

“Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs.” He demonstrated, squeezing Mike’s finger till the blood flowed. I swallowed convulsively, my stomach heaving. 

“And then apply it to the card,” he finished, holding up the drilling red card for us to see. I closed my eyes, trying to hear through the ringing in my ears. 

“The Red Cross is having a blood drive in Port Angeles next weekend, so I though you should all know your blood type.” He sounded proud of himself. “Those of you who aren’t eighteen yet will need a parents permission—I have slips at my desk.” 

He continued through the room with his water drops. I put my cheek against the cool black tabletop and tried to hold onto my consciousness. All around me I could hear squeals, complaints, and giggles as my classmates skewered their fingers. I breathed slowly in and out through my mouth. 

“Bella, are you alright?” Mr. Banner asked. His voice was close to my head, and it sounded alarmed. 

“I already know my blood type, Mr. Banner,” I said in a weak voice. I was afraid to raise my head. 

“Are you feeling faint?” 

“Yes, sir,” I muttered, internally kicking myself for not ditching when I had the chance. 

“Can someone take Bella to the nurse, please?” He called. 

I heard Mike volunteer. 

“Can you walk?” Mr. Banner asked. 

I nodded. Just let me get out of here, I thought. I’ll crawl. 

Mike put his arm around my waist and pulled my arm over his shoulder, murmuring encouragement to me. I leaned against him heavily on the way out of the classroom. 

Mike towed me slowly across campus. When we were around the edge of the cafeteria, out of sight of building four in case Mr. Banner was watching, I stopped. 

“Just let me sit for a minute, please?” I begged. 

“Course, Bella,” He helped me sit on the edge of the walk. “Let me know when you’re okay to go.” 

“Just keep your hand in your pocket,” I warned. I was still so dizzy. I slumped over on my side, putting my cheek against the freezing, damp cement of the sidewalk. 

Mike made a noise of concern. 

“Bella?” A different voice called from the distance. 

For fucks sake. Let me die in peace. 

“What’s wrong—is she hurt?” The voice was closer now, and it sounded upset. 

“I’m pretty sure she’s fainted. She didn’t stick her finger, but I think she’s got a problem with blood.” 

“Bella.” The voice sounded like Edward. “Can you hear me?” 

“No,” I groaned. “Go away.”

I heard Mike laugh, and limply reached out to hit him. 

“I was taking her to the nurse,” Mike explained, “but she couldn’t go any farther.” 

“I’ll take her,” Edward said. It sounded like he was smiling. “You can go back to class.”

“Are you sure? I assumed you had something to do because you weren’t in.” Mike replied. 

“Seriously, it’s fine. It’s not that important.” 

Mike’s hummed in confirmation, and gently patted my head. 

“See you later, Bella. Call me when you’re feeling better.” 

I grunted in response, and heard him walk away. 

Suddenly the sidewalk disappeared from beneath me. My eyes flew open in shock. Edward had scooped me up in his arms. I started to wriggle, but quickly realised that wasn’t the best idea. 

“Put me down!” Please, please let me not vomit on him. He was walking before I was finished talking.

Edward ignored me. “You look awful,” he told me, grinning. 

“Put me back on the sidewalk,” I moaned. The rocking movement of his walk was not helping. He held me away from his body, gingerly, supporting all my weight with just his arms—it didn’t seem to bother him. 

“So you faint at the sight of blood?” He asked. This seemed to entertain him. 

I didn’t answer. I closed my eyes again and fought the nausea with all my strength, clamping my lips together. 

“And not even your own blood,” he continued, enjoying himself. 

I don’t know how he opened the door while carrying me, but it was suddenly warm, so I knew we were inside. 

“Oh my,” I heard a female voice gasp. 

“She fainted in Biology,” Edward explained. 

I opened my eyes. I was in the office, and Edward was striding past the front counter toward the nurse’s door. Ms. Cope, the red headed front receptionist, ran ahead of him to hold it open. The grandmotherly nurse looked up in surprise as Edward swung me into the room and placed me on the crackly paper that covered the brown vinyl mattress on the one cot. Then he moved to stand against the wall as far across the narrow room as possible. 

“She’s just a little bit faint,” he reassured the startled nurse. “They’re blood typing in Biology.” 

Nodding in understanding, she said “There’s always one,” 

I groaned as a fresh wave of nausea hit, and she turned back to me. “Just our down for a minute, honey; it’ll pass.” She placed her cool hand on my forehead. “Does this happen a lot?”

“Sometimes,” I admitted. Edward coughed to hide a laugh. 

“You can go back to class now.” The nurse said sharply, not looking at him. 

“I’m supposed to stay with her.” 

“Well you can wait outside then,” Edward frowned, but conceded in the face of her glare. 

The nurse bustled around for a few minutes, asking a few more questions, before she retreated to fetch some ice. 

Edward peered in through the open door. 

“You were right,” I moaned, letting my eyes close. 

“I usually am—but about what in particular this time?” 

Asshole. 

“Ditching _is_ healthy.” I practiced breathing evenly. 

“You scared me for a minute there,” he admitted after a pause. “I though Newton was dragging your dead body off to bury it in the woods.” 

“Ha ha.” I still had my eyes closed, but I was feeling more normal every minute. 

“Honestly—I’ve seen corpses with better color. I was concerned that I might have to avenge your murder.”

“Poor Mike.” 

There was another pause. 

“How did you see me? I thought you were ditching.” I was almost fine now, though the queasiness would probably pass faster if I’d eaten something for lunch. On the other hand, maybe it was lucky my stomach was empty. 

“I was in my car, listening to a CD.” Such a normal response—if surprised me. 

The nurse appeared in the doorway with a cold compress, glaring at Edward, who’d slowly moved back into the room. 

“Here you go, dear.” She laid it across my forehead. “You’re looking better,” she added. 

“I think I’m fine,” I said, sitting up. Just a little ringing in my ears, no spinning. The walls stayed where they should. 

I could see she was about to make me lie back down, but the door just then, and Ms. Cope stuck her head back in. 

“We’ve got another one,” she warned. 

I sat up to free the cot for the next invalid. 

Mike staggered through the door, now supporting a shallow looking Lee Stephens, another boy in our Biology class. He gave me a weak smile when he saw me, but quickly forgot about me when Lee went limp. The nurse rushed to help him, and I slipped out in the rush. I could feel Edward right behind me. 

“Why did you leave so quickly?” He asked, clearly confused. “You were practically comatose ten minutes ago.” 

“I smelled the blood,” I said, wrinkling my nose. Lee wasn’t sick from watching other people, like me. 

“People can’t smell blood,” he contradicted. 

“Well I can—that what makes me sick. It smells like rust...and salt.”

He was staring at me with an unfathomable expression. 

“What?” I asked. 

“It’s nothing.” 

Mike came through the door then, glancing from me to Edward. 

“You look better, at least.” he said to me. 

“Just keep your in your pocket,” I warned him again. 

“It’s not bleeding anymore,” he grinned. “Are you coming back to class?”

“Are you kidding? I’d just have to turn around and come back.” 

“Yeah, I guess...So are you going this weekend? To the beach?” While he spoke, he glanced toward Edward, who was standing against the cluttered counter, motionless as a sculpture, staring off into space. 

“Sure, I said I was in.” 

“We’re meeting at my dads store, at ten.” His eyes flickered to Edward again. His body language made it clear it wasn’t an open invitation. 

I guess one moment of camaraderie doesn’t outweigh years of no interaction, even for someone as friendly as Mike. 

“I’ll be there,” I promised. 

“I’ll see you in Gym, then,” he said, moving toward the door. 

“See you,” I replied. He looked at me once more before walking out. 

Realisation crashed into me. 

“Gym,” I groaned. 

“I can take care of that.” I hadn’t noticed Edward moving to my side, but he spoke now in my ear. “Go sit down and look pale,” he muttered. 

That wasn’t a challenge; I was always pale, and my recent swoon had left a light sheen of sweat on my face. I sat in one of the creaky folding chairs and rested my head against the wall with my eyes closed. Fainting spells always exhausted me. 

I heard Edward speaking softly at the counter. 

“Ms. Cope?” 

“Yes?” I hadn’t heard her return to her desk. 

“Bella has Gym next hour, and I don’t think she feels well enough. Actually, I was thinking I should take her home now. Do you think you could excuse her from class?” 

“Do you need to be excused, too, Edward?” Ms. Cope asked. 

“No, I have Mrs. Goff, she won’t mind.” 

“Okay, it’s all taken care of. You feel better, Bella,” she called to me. I nodded weakly, hamming it up just a bit. 

“Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you again?” With his back to the receptionist, his expression became sarcastic. 

“I’ll walk.” 

I stood carefully, and I was still fine. He held the door for me, his smile polite but his eyes mocking. I walked out into the cold, fine mist that had just begun to fall. It felt nice—the first time I’d enjoyed the constant moisture falling out of the sky—as it washed my face clean of the sticky perspiration. 

“Thanks,” I said as he followed me out. “It’s almost worth getting sick to miss Gym.” 

“Anytime.” He was staring straight forward, squinting into the rain. 

”I’m still angry at you,” I said, trying my best not to sound like a petulant child. 

”Bella, I’m sorry for ignoring you, but—“ he began. 

”No,” I interrupted him. 

”What?” He was bewildered. 

”No, that’s not why I’m angry at you,” I saw his sceptical expression. “Okay, that’s part of it. But, Edward, the main thing? You let Tyler corner me. You’re the reason I outed myself yesterday. That could seriously put my safety in jeopardy. I know you didn’t know...but you haven’t mentioned it once.” 

The embarrassment on his face had grown while I’d been speaking. 

”Ah, yes. I am truly sorry Bella—you are incorrect that I didn’t know, which makes me even more responsible. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.” 

I nodded and folded my arms, happy that I’d at least gotten an apology. Whether or not I'd forgive him was dependent on the reaction of the rest of the school. 

We sat in silence for a minute. 

“So are you going? This Saturday, I mean?” I felt bad for how pointedly Mike has excluded him. Maybe it would help break down the walls between him and the other students. 

“Where are you all going, exactly?” He was still looking ahead, expressionless. 

“Down to La Push, to First Beach.” I studied his face, trying to read it. His eyes seemed to narrow infinitesimally. 

He glance down at me from the corner of his eye, smiling wryly. “I really don’t think I was invited.” 

I sighed. “I just invited you.” 

“Let’s not push poor Mike any further. We don’t want him to snap.” 

We were near the parking lot now. I veered left, toward my truck. Something caught my jacket, yanking me back. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked. He was gripping a fistful of my jacket in one hand. 

I was confused. “I’m going home.” 

“Didn’t you hear me promise to take you safely home? Do you think I’m going to let you drive home in your condition?” His voice was still indignant. 

“What condition? And what about my truck?” I complained. 

“I’ll have Rose drop it off after school.” He was toeing me toward his car now, pulling me by my jacket. It was all I could do to keep from faking backward. He probably just drag me along anyway if I did. 

“Let go!” I insisted. He ignored me. I staggered along sideways across the wet sidewalk until we reached the Volvo. Then he finally freed me—I stumbled against the passenger door. 

“You are so _pushy_!” I grumbled. 

“It’s open,” was all he responded. He got in the drivers side. 

“I am perfectly capable of driving myself home!” I stood by the car, fumbling. It was raining harder now, and I’d never put my hood up, so my hair was dripping down my back. 

He lowered the automatic window, and leaned toward me across the seat. “Get in, Bella.” 

I didn’t answer. I was mentally calculating my chances of reaching the truck before he could catch me. I had to admit, they weren’t good. 

“I’ll just drag you back,” he threatened, guessing my plan. 

I tried to maintain what dignity I could as I got into his car. I wasn’t very successful—I looked like a half-drowned cat and my boots squeaked. 

“This is completely unnecessary,” I said stiffly. 

He didn’t answer. He fiddled with the controls, turning the heater up and the music down. As he pulled out of the parking lot, I was preparing to give him the silent treatment, but then I recognised the music playing, and my curiosity got the better of my intentions. 

“Clair de Lune?” I asked, surprised. 

“You know Debussy?” He sounded surprised, too. 

“Not well,” I admitted. “My mother plays a lot of classical music around the house—I only know my favourites.” 

“It’s one of my favourites too.” He stared out through the rain, seemingly lost in thought. 

I listened to the music, relaxing against the light gray leather seat. It was impossible not to respond to the familiar, soothing melody. The rain blurred everything outside the window into gray and green smudges. I began to realise we were driving very fast; the car moved so steadily, so evenly, though, I didn’t feel the speed. Only the town flashing by gave it away. 

“What is your mother like?” he asked me suddenly. 

I glanced over to see him studying me with curious eyes. 

“She looks a lot like me, but she’s prettier,” I said. He raised his eyebrows. “I have too much Charlie in me. She’s more outgoing than I am, and braver.” 

Edward was looking at me strangely. I paused, confused, but he gestured for me to continue. 

“Uh...she’s irresponsible, and a very unpredictable cook, so I often do a lot of our housework,” I smiled to myself. “Well, used to. She’s my best friend.” I stopped. Talking about her was making me depressed. 

“How old are you, Bella?” His voice sounded frustrated for some reason I couldn’t imagine. He’d stopped the car, and I realised we were at Charlie’s house already. The rain was so heavy that I could barely see the house at all. It was like the car was submerged under a river. 

“I’m seventeen,” I responded, a little confused. 

“You don’t seem seventeen.” 

His tone was reproachful; it made me laugh. 

“What?” He asked, curious again. 

“My mom always says I was born thirty-five years old and that I get more middle-aged every year.” I laughed, and then sighed. “Well, someone has to be the adult.” 

He looked even more upset. 

“You don’t seem much like a junior in high school yourself,” I noted. 

“Why did you mother marry Phil?” He said, quickly changing the subject. 

I was surprised he would remember the name; I’d mentioned it just once, almost two months ago. It took me a moment to answer. 

“My mother...she’s very young for her age. I think Phil makes her feel even younger. At any rate, she’s crazy about him.” I shook my head. The attraction was a mystery to me. 

“Do you approve?” He asked. 

“Does it matter?” I countered. “I want her to be happy...and he is who she wants.” 

“That’s very generous...I wonder,” he mused.

“What?” 

“Would she extend the same courtesy to you, do you think? No matter who your choice was?” 

“I—I think so,” I stuttered, caught off guard. “But she’s the parent after all. It’s a little bit different.” 

There was a pause, and he smiled, the tension finally breaking. 

“No one too scary then,” he teased.

I grinned in response. “What do you mean by scary? Extensive tattoos and body mods?” 

“That’s one definition, I suppose.” 

Back to the cryptic. 

“What’s your definition?” 

But he ignored my question and asked me another. “Do you think that _I_ could be scary?” He raised one eyebrow, and the faint trace of a smile lightened his face. 

I thought for a moment, wondering whether the truth it a lie would go over better. I decided to go with the truth. “Hmmm...I think you _could_ be, if you wanted to.” 

“Are you frightened of me now?” The smile vanished, and his face was suddenly serious. 

“No.” But I answered too quickly. The smile returned. It was a bit unnerving. 

“So, now are you going to tell me about your family?” I asked to distract him. “It’s got to be a much more interesting story than mine.” 

He was instantly cautious. “What do you want to know?” 

“The Cullens adopted you?” I verified. 

“Yes.”

I hesitated for a moment. “What happened to your parents?” 

“They died many years ago.” His tone was matter-of-fact. 

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. 

“I don’t really remember them that clearly. Carlisle and Esme have been my parents for a long time now.” 

“And you love them.” It wasn’t a question. It was obvious in the way he spoke of them. 

“Yes.” He smiled. “I couldn’t imagine two better people.” 

“You’re very lucky.” 

“I know I am.” 

“And you brother and sister?” 

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 

“My brother and sister, and Jasper and Rosalie for that matter, are going to be quite upset if they have to stand in the rain waiting for me.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, quickly getting out of his car, pulling my jacket over my head.

“And you probably want your truck back before Chief Swan gets home, so you don’t have to tell him about the Biology incident.” He grinned at me. 

“I’m sure he’s already heard. There are no secrets in Forks.” I sighed. 

He laughed, and there was an edge to his laughter. 

“Have fun at the beach...good weather for sunbathing.” He glanced out at the sheeting rain. 

“Won’t I see you tomorrow?”

“No. Emmet and I are starting the weekend early.”

“What are you going to do?” 

“We’re going hiking in the Goat Rick’s Wilderness, just south of Rainier.”

I remembered Charlie had said the Cullens went camping frequently. 

“Oh, well, have fun.” I tried to sound like I understood his enjoyment of isolation in rainy mountains. From the look on his face, I don’t think I fooled him. 

“Will you do something for me this weekend?” He turned to look at me.

I nodded. 

“Don’t be offended, but you seem to be one of those people who just attract accidents like a magnet. So...try not to fall into the ocean of get run over or anything, all right?” He smiled crookedly, and I glared at him. 

Asshole. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” I snapped, storming away. I looked back as I reached my door. 

He was still smiling as he drove away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops sorry this is so late. I hope this was worth the wait, I got to actually be a bit creative this chapter.


	7. Scary Stories

As I sat in my room, trying to concentrate on the third act of _Twelfth Night_ , I was really listening for my truck. I would have thought, even over the pounding rain, I could have heard the engines roar. But when I went to peek out the curtain—again—it was suddenly there. 

I wasn’t looking forward to Friday, but I was pleasantly surprised. Of course there were the fainting comments, but they seemed more lighthearted than anything, and Jess especially seemed sympathetic to my hatred of blood. She did have a lot of questions about lunch, though. 

“So what did the Cullens want yesterday?” Jess asked in Trig. 

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “He never really got to the point.” 

“You looked kind of mad,” she said. “I didn’t know whether they were making you uncomfortable.” 

“Well, Edward was being incredibly frustrating, but I’m getting the sense that he’s just like that.” 

She giggled. “Yeah, his siblings seem constantly on the edge of hitting him.” 

I smiled, and we both turned back to the front. 

When I walked into the cafeteria with Mike and Jess, I couldn’t keep from looking at the Cullen table, where Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper sat talking, heads close together. Even though I’d known he wouldn’t be here, the day felt off without his constant, uncomfortable presence. 

At my usual table, everyone was full of our plans for the next day. Mike was animated again, putting a great deal of trust in the local weatherman who promised sun tomorrow. I’d have to see that before I believed it. But it was warmer today—almost sixty. Maybe the outing wouldn’t be completely miserable. No one mentioned the incident with Tyler, and I didnt know if that's was due to their ignorance of the event, or if they had adopted a 'don't ask, don't tell policy'. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, glad that I was not being ostracized or abused—at least for now. 

I did intercept a few unfriendly glances from Lauren during lunch, which I didn’t understand until we were all walking out of the room together. I was right behind her, just a foot from her slick, silver blonde hair, and she was evidently unaware of that. 

“...don’t know why _Bella_ ”—She sneered my name—“doesn’t just sit with the Cullens from now on,” I heard her muttering to Mike. I’d never noticed what an unpleasant, nasal voice she had, and I was surprised by the malice in it. I really didn’t know her that well at all, certainly not well enough for her to dislike me—or so I’d thought. 

“She’s friends with us Lauren.” Mike said sharply. I heard her responded snort, and paused to let Jess and Angela pass me. 

*

As I was leaving school later, Jess came up behind me and tapped my shoulder. 

“Hey, Bella?” She smiled gently as I turned around. “Do you think we could talk for a minute?” 

I hummed in confirmation, ignoring the sudden pit in my stomach. 

“Cool.” She spun around and walked towards the picnic benches out by the cafeteria. Luckily it had stopped raining, but the wood was still soaked from the day before. She sat down. 

“So, uh,” Jess seemed unsure of how to begin. “I heard about what happened with Tyler.” 

I started to open my mouth, prepared with the usual argument that I wasn’t interested, just because I was gay doesn’t mean I liked every single girl, but she steamrolled over me. 

“I just wanted to let you know that no one here cares. I’m sorry you had to tell someone like that, and everyone has been really pissed at Tyler for not taking your answer at face value.” She paused. “I'm kind of pissed at them for that. Tyler's been an asshole for ages before this. Never took any notice then." Her voice was bitter. 

I stayed quiet, not quite sure how to respond. 

"Sorry. Not your fault." She rolled her eyes. "Either way, Tyler's an asshole and I'm sorry you had to deal with it too. Mike and Eric are both really embarrassed. They would apologise themselves, but, you know, that would require talking about emotions.” 

I nodded, at a loss for words. 

Jess started again tentatively. “I hope you feel comfortable to be more open now, because we genuinely just want you to be happy. I don’t know what it was like in your old school in Arizona, but we’ve gotten a lot better with this sort of thing recently.” She smiled hopefully at me. 

“Yeah,” I laughed nervously, “I guess I was sort of expecting the small town, small mind thing. Since when was Forks a beacon of diversity?” 

Jess had relaxed as I’d been talking. 

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” she giggled. “But we were sort of forced to when the Cullens moved in.” 

She must have registered the confusion on my face. 

“Yeah, you can’t really have the general population actively discriminating against the daughter of your best doctor. The adults all got with the programme pretty quickly when it became clear Carlisle wouldn’t be accepting patients who’d insulted her.” 

Y

Not Alice, she’s dating Jasper. So Rosalie. The supermodel. Ah. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.

Jess smirked knowingly at whatever expression was on my face. 

“What about the kids?” I asked, still confused. “Since when have adults been able to influence what their kids insult each other with?” 

“Oh, they can’t,” Jess was fully grinning now. “But they step in line pretty quickly when being an asshole results in a black eye, or worse, especially when the doctor won’t do anything to help.” 

“I wouldn’t have thought Emmet would have been allowed—“ I began, immediately thinking of the toughest looking Cullen.

“Rosalie.” Jess interrupted. 

“What?” 

“Rosalie,” she repeated. “Rosalie’s the one who does it. Not that anyone can prove it—she never has a scratch on her—but we all know it’s her.” 

“But she’s so...” 

“Pretty? Blonde? Yeah, that’s why they’re all so embarrassed. From what I’ve heard, Emmet’s the one who has to hold her back.” 

I remembered the way he’d been wrestling her into the car when I’d been talking to Tyler. Almost like she’d heard what he’d said. 

“But yeah,” Jess was speaking again. “Don’t worry about talking to us about this.” 

“Thanks.” I smiled at her, and she jumped off the bench, linking her arm with mine. We began to walk towards the parking lot. 

“Anyway, now you have Alice and Edward’s stamp of approval, we can try setting you up with Rosalie.” 

“Not all gay girls like each other Jess.” I chastised. 

“I _know_ , but I saw you staring at their table on your first day. Surely you’re just a little bit interested?” 

I laughed. “Sure, but it’s her you’d need to worry about. I don’t think Barbie will go for a Bride of Dracula.” 

Jess slapped my arm playfully. “I’m sure that was intended to be self-deprecating, but the Brides were pretty sexy ladies. That's like the whole point." 

I stared at her in surprise. 

“Hey!” she said. “I pay attention in English too!”

We got to my truck, and Jess smirked. 

“To be honest, Bells, I don’t know how none of us got it from this beast alone.” 

I swatted her away, and she skipped off to her own car, waving goodbye over her shoulder. 

I smiled to myself as I got in. 

*

That night at dinner, Charlie seemed enthusiastic about my trip to La Push in the morning. I think he felt guilty for leaving me home alone on the weekends, but he’d spent too many years building his habits to break them now. Of course he knew the names of all the kids going, and their parents, and their grandparents, too, probably. He seemed to approve. I wondered if he would approve of my plan to ride to Seattle with Edward Cullen. Not that I was going to tell him. 

“Dad, do you know a place called Goat Rocks or something like that? I think it south of Mount Rainier,” I asked casually. 

“Yeah—why?” 

I shrugged. “Some kids were talking about camping there.” 

“It’s not a very good place for camping.” He sounded surprised. “Too many bears. Most people go there during the hunting season.” 

“Oh,” I murmured. “Maybe I got the name wrong.” 

I meant to sleep in, but an unusual brightness woke me. I opened my eyes to see a clear yellow light streaming through my window. I couldn’t believe it. I hurried to the window to check, and sure enough, there was the sun. It was in the wrong place in the sky, too low, and it didn’t seem to be as close as it should be, but it was definitely the sun. Clouds ringed the horizon, but a large patch of blue was visible in the middle. I lingered by the window as long as I could, afraid that if I left the blue would disappear again. 

The Newton’s Olympic Outfitters store was just north of town. I’d seen the store, but I’d never stopped there—not having much need for any supplies required for being outdoors over an extended period of time. In the parking lot I recognised Mike’s suburban and Tyler’s Sentra. As I pulled up next to their vehicles, I could see the group standing around in front of the suburban. Eric was there, along with two other boys I had class with; I was fairly sure their names were Ben and Connor. Jess was there, flanked by Angela and Lauren. Three other girls stood with them, including one I remembered falling over in Gym on Friday. That one gave me a dirty look as I got out of the truck, and whispered something to Lauren. Lauren shook out her corn silk hair and eyed me scornfully. 

So it was going to be one of _those_ days. 

At least Mike was happy to see me. 

“You came!” He called, delighted. “And I said it would be sunny today, didn’t I?”

“Mike, I told you I was coming,” I reminded him. 

“Yeah, but I know you’re not one for outdoorsy things, so I didn’t know if you were going to leave your cave.” Mike grinned at me. “We’re just waiting for Lee and Samantha...unless you invited someone?” He added. 

“Nope,” I lied lightly, hoping he wouldn't be able to tell. 

Mike looked satisfied. 

“Will you ride in my car? It’s that it Lee’s moms minivan.” 

“Sure.” 

“You can have shotgun.” He promised. I hid my chagrin. Jess would be wanting that spot. At least he'd gotten over the dance debacle.

The numbers worked out in my favour, though. Lee brought two extra people, so I ended up taking Angela in my truck, while everyone else piled into the cars. Jess ended up next to Mike, and before we left I saw them playfully bickering about music choices. 

I was just glad I wasn't stuck with Tyler. He was limping today, and I hid my amusement at what I strongly suspected was Rosalie's handiwork. Jess and Mike seemed to share my feelings, smirking whenever he groaned in pain. 

It was only fifteen miles to La Push from Forks, with gorgeous, dense green forests edging the road most of the way, and the wide Quillayute Ricer snaking beneath it twice. Angela put on Hozier—clearly shy about the ‘alternative’ ballads—and we both sat quietly for the journey, save a few comments about our favourites. She seemed uncomfortable with lots of talking, so I let her be. Hopefully she’d feel more relaxed later on. 

I’d been to the beaches around La Push many times during my Forks summers with Charlie, so the mile-long crescent of First Beach was familiar to me. It was still breathtaking. The water was dark grey, even in the sunlight, white-capped and heaving to the grey, rocky shore. Islands rose out of the steel harbour waters with sheer cliff edges, reaching to uneven summits, and crowned with austere, soaring firs. The beach had only a thin border of actual sand at the waters edge, after which it grew into millions of large, smooth stones that looked uniformly grey from a distance, but close up were every shade a stone could be: terra-cotta, sea green, lavender, blue grey, dull gold. The tide line was strewn with huge driftwood trees, bleached bone white in the salt waves, some piled together against the edge of the forest fringe, some lying solitary, just out of reach of the waves. 

There was a brisk wind coming off the waves, cool and bring. Pelicans floated on the swells while seagulls and a lone eagle wheeled above them. The clouds still circled the sky, threatening to invade at any moment, but for now the sun shone bravely in its halo of blue sky. 

We picked out way down to the beach, Mike leading the way to a ring of driftwood logs that had obviously been used for parties like ours before. There was a fire circle already in place, filled with black ashes. Eric and the boy I though was named Ben gathered broken branches of driftwood from the drier piles against the forest edge, and soon had a teepee-shaped construction built atop the old cinders. 

“Have you ever seen a driftwood fire?” Mike asked me. I was sitting in one of the bone-coloured benches; the other girls clustered, gossiping excitedly, on either side of me. Mike kneeled by the fire, lighting one of the smaller sticks with a cigarette lighter. 

“No,” I said as he placed the blazing twig carefully against the teepee. 

“You’ll like this then—watch the colours.” He lit another small branch and laid it alongside the first. The flames started to lick quickly up the dry wood. 

“It’s blue,” I said in surprise. 

“The salt does it. Pretty, isn’t it?” He lit one more piece, placed it where the fire hadn’t yet caught, and then came to sit by me. Jess was on his other side, and quickly claimed his attention. I watched the strange blue and green flames crackle toward the sky. 

After a half hour of chatter, some of the boys wanted to hike to the nearby tidal pools. They had fascinated me since I was a child; they were one of the only things I ever looked forward to when I had come to Forks. On the other hand, I’d also fallen into them a lot. Not a big deal when you’re seven and with you’re dad, but here? Maybe not. 

Lauren was the one who made my decision for me. She didn’t want to hike, and she was definitely wearing the wrong shoes for it. Most of the other girls besides Angela and Jess decided to stay on the beach as well. I waited until Tyler had committed to remaining with them before I got up quietly to join the pro-hiking group. Mike gave me a huge smile when he saw that I was coming. 

The hike wasn’t too long, though I hated to lose the sky in the woods. The green light was strangely at odds with the adolescent laughter, too murky and ominous to be in harmony with the light banter around me. I started to fall behind, carefully avoiding roots and branches, but Mike took it upon himself to hoist me onto his back, much to Jess’ amusement. 

Eventually we broke through the emerald confines of the forest and found the rocky shore again. It was low tide, and a tidal river flowed pact us on its way to the sea. Along its pebbled banks, shallow pools that never completely drained were teeming with life. 

I was very careful not to lean too far over the little ocean ponds. The others were fearless, leaping over the rocks, perching precariously on the edges. I found a very stable-looking rock on the fringe of one of the largest pools and sat there cautiously, spellbound by the natural aquarium below me. The bouquets of brilliant anemones undulated ceaselessly in the invisible current, twisted shells scurried around the edges, obscuring the crabs with them, starfish stuck motionless to the rocks and each other, while one small black eel with white racing stripes woven through the bright green weeds, waiting for he sea to return. Remembering her latest hobby of fish, I took a picture to send off to Blaire when I got home. 

Finally the others got hungry, and I got up stiffly to follow them back. I tried to keep up better this time through the woods, so naturally I fell a few times. I got some shallow scrapes on my palms, and the knees of my jeans were stained green, but it could have been worse. 

When we got back to First Beach, the group we’d left begin had multiplied. As we got closer we could see the shining, straight black hair and copper skin of the newcomers, teenagers from the reservation come to socialise. The food was already being passed around, and the boys hurried to claim a share while Eric introduced us as we each entered the driftwood circle. Angela and I were the last to arrive, and, as Eric said our names, I noticed a younger boy sitting on the stones glance up at me with interest. I sat down next to Angela, and Mike brought us sandwiches and an array of sodas to choose from, while a boy who looked to be the oldest of the visitors rattled off the names of the seven others with him. All I caught was that one of the girls was also named Jessica, and the boy who noticed me was named Jacob. 

It was relaxing to sit with Angela; she was a restful kind of person to be around—she didn’t feel the need to fill every silence with chatter. She left me free to think I disturbed while we ate. And I was thinking about how disjointed my time seemed to flow in Forks, passing in a blur at times, with single images standing out more clearly than others. And then, at other times, every second was significant, etched in my mind. 

During lunch the clouds started to advance, slinking across the blue sky, darting in front of the sun momentarily, casting long shadows across the beach, and blackening the waves. As they finished eating, people started to drift away in twos and threes. Some walked down to the edge of the waves, trying to skip rocks across the choppy surface. Others were gathering a second expedition to the tide pools. Mike—with Jess shadowing him—headed up to the one shop in the village. Some of the local kids went with them; others went along on the hike. By the time they had all scattered, I was sitting alone on my driftwood log, with Lauren and Tyler occupying themselves by the CD player someone had thought to bring, and three teenagers from the reservation perched around the circle, including Jacob and the oldest boy who had acted as a spokesperson. 

A few minutes after Angela left with the hikers, Jacob sauntered over to take her place by my side. He looked fourteen, maybe fifteen, and had long, glossy black hair pulled back with a rubber band at the nape of his neck. His skin was beautiful, silky and russet-coloured; his eyes were dark, set deep above the high planes of his cheekbones. He still had just a hint of childish roundness left around his chin. 

“You’re Isabella Swan, aren’t you?”

It was like the first day of school all over again. 

“Bella,” I sighed. 

“I’m Jacob Black.” He held his hand out in a friendly gesture. “I thought I saw my dads truck parked.” 

“Oh,” I said, relieved, shaking his sleek hand. “You’re Billy’s son. I should probably remember you.”

“Nah, I’m the youngest of the family—you mainly hung out with my old sisters.” 

“Rachel and Rebecca,” I suddenly recalled. Charlie and Billy had thrown us together a lot during my visits, to keep us busy while they fished. We were all too shy to make much progress as friends. Of course, I’d kicked up enough tantrums to end the fishing trips by the time I was eleven. 

“Are they here?” I examined the girls at the oceans edge, wondering if I would recognise them now. 

“No.” Jacob shook his head. “Rachel got a scholarship to Washington State, and Rebecca’s dating a Samoan surfer—she lives in Hawaii now.” 

“Wow.” I was stunned. The twins were only a little over a year older than I was. I couldn’t imagine Renée letting me go as far away as Hawaii: she'd only let me leave for Forks because Charlie would be here. 

“So how do you like the truck?” He asked. 

“I love it. It runs great.” 

“Yeah, but it’s really slow,” he laughed. “I was relieved when Charlie bought it. My dad wouldn’t let me work on building another car when we had a perfectly good vehicle right there.” 

“It’s not that slow,” I objected. 

“Have you tried to go over sixty?”

“No,” I admitted. 

“Good. Don’t.” He grinned.

I couldn’t help grinning back. “It does great in a collision,” I offered in my trucks defence. 

“I don’t think a tank could take out that old monster,” he agreed with another laugh. 

“So you build cars?” I asked, impressed. 

“When I have free time, and parts. You wouldn’t happen to know where I could get my hands on a master cylinder for a 1986 Volkswagen Rabbit?” He added jokingly. 

“Sorry,” I laughed, “I haven’t seen any lately, but I’ll keep my eyes open for you.” As if I knew what that was. He was very easy to talk to. 

“You know Bella, Jacob?” Lauren asked—in what I imagined was an insolent tone—from across the fire. 

“We’ve sort of known each other since I was born,” he laughed, smiling at me again. 

“How nice.” She didn’t sound like she thought it was nice at all, and her pale, fishy eyes narrowed.

“Bella,” she called again, watching my face carefully. “I was just saying to Tyler that it was too bad none of the Cullens could come out today. Didn’t anyone think to invite them?” Her expression of concern was unconvincing. 

“You mean Dr. Carlisle Cullen’s family?” The tall, older boy asked before I could respond, much to Lauren’s irritation. He was really closer to a man than a boy, and his voice was very deep. 

“Yes, do you know them?” She asked condescendingly, turning halfway toward him. 

“The Cullens don’t come here,” he said in a tone that closed the subject, ignoring her question. 

Tyler, trying to win back her attention, asked Laura’s opinion on a CD he held. She was distracted. 

I stared at the deep-voiced boy, taken aback, but he was looking away toward the dark forest behind us. He’d said that the Cullens didn’t come here, but his tone implied something more—that they weren’t allowed; they were prohibited. His manner left a strange impression on me, and I tried to ignore it without success. 

Jacob interrupted my meditation. “So is Forks driving you insane yet?” 

“Oh, I’d say that’s an understatement.” I grimaced. He grinned understandingly. 

I was still turning over the brief comment on the Cullens, and I wondered if Jacob knew anything about it. 

“Do you want to walk down the beach with me?” I asked, trying to imitate that way Jess had of making anyone feel like her best friend. It couldn’t have nearly the same effect, I was sure, but Jacob jumped up willingly enough. 

As we walked north across the multitude stones toward the driftwood seawall, the clouds finally closed ranks across the sky, causing the sea to darken and the temperature to drop. I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my jacket. 

“So you’re, what, sixteen?” I asked, vaguely remembering his frustration as the baby of his family. 

“I just turned fifteen,” he confessed, flattered. 

“Really?” My face was full of false surprise. “I would have thought you were older.” 

“I’m tall for my age,” he explained. 

“Do you come up to Forks much?” I asked archly, as if I was hoping for a yes. I sounded idiotic to myself. I was afraid he would turn on me with disgust and accuse me of my fraud, but he seemed pleased enough. 

“Not too much,” he admitted with a frown. “But when I get my car finished I can go up as much as I want—after I get my license,” he amended. 

“Who was that other boy Lauren was talking to? He seemed a little old to be hanging out with us.” I purposefully lumped myself in with the youngsters, trying to make it clear that I preferred Jacob. 

“That’s Sam—he’s nineteen,” he informed me. 

“What was that about the doctors family?” I asked innocently. 

“The Cullens? Oh, they’re not supposed to come onto the reservation.” He looked away, out toward James Island, as he confirmed what I’d thought I’d heard in Sam’s voice. 

“Why not?” 

He glanced back at me, biting his lip. “Oops. I’m not supposed to say anything about that.” 

I laughed. “Oh, I won’t tell anyone, I’m just curious.”

He smiled back. Then he lifted one eyebrow, and made his voice even huskier than before. 

“Do you like scary stories?” He asked ominously. 

“I _love_ them,” I enthused. This I didn't have to lie about; I was a bit of a horror movie freak.

Jacob strolled go a nearby driftwood tree that had its roots sticking out like the attenuated legs of a huge, pale spider. He perched lightly on one of the twisted roots while I sat beneath him on the body of the tree. He stared down at the rocks, a smile hovering around the edges of his broad lips. I could see he was going to try to make this good. I focused on keeping the vital interest I felt out of my eyes. 

“Do you know any of our old stories, about where we came from—the Quileutes, I mean?” He began. 

“Not really,” I admitted. 

“Well, there are lots of legends, some of them claiming to date back to the Flood—supposedly, the ancient Quileutes tied their canoes to the tops of the tallest trees on the mountain to survive like Noah and the ark.” He smiled, to show me how little stock he put in the histories. “Another legend claims that we descended from wolves—and that the wolves are our brothers still. It’s against tribal law to kill them.

“Then there are the stories about the _cold ones_.” His voiced dropped a little lower. 

“The cold ones?” I asked, not faking my intrigue now. 

“Yes. There are stories of the cold ones as old as the wolf legends, and some much more recent. According to legend, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Your great-grandfather?” I encouraged. 

“He was a tribal elder, like my father. You see, the cold ones are natural enemies of the wolf—well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves.” 

“Werewolves have enemies?” 

“Only one.” 

I stared at him earnestly, hoping to disguise my impatience. 

“So you see,” Jacob continued, “the cold ones are traditionally our enemies. But this pack that came to our territory during my great-grandfathers time was different. They didn’t hunt the way others if their kind did—they weren’t supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So my great-grandfather made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off our lands, and never hurt a human in our territory, we wouldn’t expose them to the pale-faces.” He winked at me. 

“If they weren’t dangerous, then why...?” I tried to understand, struggling not to let him see how seriously I was considering his ghost story. 

“There’s always a risk for humans to be around the cold ones, even if they’re civilised like this clan was. You never know when the might get too hungry to resist.” He deliberately worked a thick edge of menace into his tone. 

“What do you mean, ‘civilised’?”

“They claimed that they didn’t hunt humans. They supposedly were somehow able to prey on animals instead.” 

I tried to keep my voice casual. 

“So how does it fit in with the Cullens? Are they like the cold ones your great-grandfather met?” 

“No.” He paused dramatically. “They are the _same_ ones.” 

He must have thought the expression on my face was fear inspired by his story. He smiled, pleased, and continued. 

“There are more of them now, a new female and a new male, but the rest are the same. In my great-grandfather’s time they already knew of the leader, Carlisle. He’d been here and gone before _your_ people had even arrived.” He was fighting a smile. 

“And what are they?” I finally asked. “What _are_ the cold ones?” 

He smiled darkly. 

“Blood drinkers,” he replied in a chilling voice. “Your people call them vampires.” 

I stared out at the rough surf after he answered, not sure what my face was exposing. 

“You have goosebumps,” he laughed delightedly. 

“You’re a good storyteller,” I complimented him, still staring into the waves. 

“Pretty crazy stuff, though, isn’t it? No wonder my dad doesn’t want us to talk about it to anyone.” 

I couldn’t control my expression enough to look at him yet. “Don’t worry, I won’t give you away.” 

“I guess I just violated the treaty,” he laughed. 

“I’ll take it to the grave,” I promised, and then I shivered. 

“Seriously, though, don’t say anything to Charlie. He was pretty mad at my dad when he heard that some of us weren’t going to the hospital since Dr. Cullen started working there.”

“I won’t, of course not.” 

“So do you think we’re a bunch of superstitious natives or what?” He asked in a playful tone, but with a hint of worry. I still hadn’t looked away from the ocean. 

I turned and smiled at him as normally as I could. 

“No. I think you’re very good at telling scary stories, though. I still have goosebumps, see?” I held up my arm. 

“Cool.” He smiled. 

And then the sound of the beach rocks flattering against each other warned us that someone was approaching. Our heads snapped up at the same time to see Mike and Jess about fifty yards away, walking toward us. 

“There you are, Bella.” Mike called in relief, watching his arm over his head. 

“Is that your boyfriend?” Jacob asked. “My dad's gossip must be more wrong than I thought.” 

“No, definitely not.” I whispered, grinning. He smiled, pleased I’d liked his joke. 

“So when I get me license...” he began. 

“You should come see me in Forks. We could hang out sometime.” I felt guilt as I said this, knowing that I’d used him. But I really did like Jacob. He was someone I could easily be friends with. 

Mike had reached us now, with Jessica still a few paces back. 

“Where have you been?” He asked, though the answer was right in front of him. 

“Jacob was just telling me some local stories,” I volunteered. “It was really interesting.” 

I smiled at Jacob warmly, and he grinned back. 

“Well,” Mike paused, watching our camaraderie. “We’re packing up—it looks like it’s going to rain soon.” 

We all looked up at the flowering sky. It certainly did look like rain. 

“Okay.” I jumped up. “I’m coming.” 

“It was nice to see you again,” Jacob said, getting up to head back himself. 

“It really was. Next time Charlie comes down to see Billy, I’ll come too.” I promised. 

His grin stretched across his face. “That would be cool.”

“And thanks,” I added earnestly. 

There was a brief pause, and he pulled me into a warm hug. Surprised, I didn’t hug back, and he laughed before releasing me. 

“I’d offer one to you guys, but we haven’t had a bonding moment yet," he said to Jess and Mike, who looked confused. 

I pulled up my hood and waved goodbye as we tramped across the rocks towards the parking lot. A few drops were beginning to fall, making black spots in the stones where they landed. When we got to the suburban the others were already loading everything back in. I crawled into the truck with Angela, eager to get the heating on before the weather got too bad. On the way back, Angela just stared out the window at the escalating storm; I stared out at the road and tried very hard not to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got my friend to read this one, and the only comment he had was that there’s were too many cools when Bella finds out Rosalies gay. I hope you lot get the Brooklyn Nine Nine reference.


	8. Nightmare

I told Charlie I had a lot of homework to do, and that I didn’t want anything to eat. There was a basketball game on that he was excited about, though of course _I_ had no idea what was special about it, so he wasn’t aware of anything unusual in my face or gone. 

Once in my room, I locked the door. I dug through my desk until I found my old headphones, and I plugged them into my little CD player. I picked up a CD that Phil had given to me for Christmas. It was one of his favourite bands, but they used a little too much bass and shrieking for my tastes. I popped it into place and lay down on my bed. I out in the headphones, hit play, and turned up the volume until it hurt my ears. The light intruded even when I closed my eyes, so I flung a pillow over the top half of my face. 

I concentrated very carefully on the music, trying to understand the lyrics, to unravel the complicated drum patterns. By the third time I’d listened through the CD, I knew all the words to the choruses, at least. I was surprised to find that I really did like the band after all, once I got past the blaring noise. I’d have to thank Phil again. 

And it worked. The shattering beats made it impossible for me to think—which was the whole purpose of the exercise. I listened to the CD again and again, until I was singing along with all the songs, until, finally, I fell asleep. 

I opened my eyes to a familiar place. Aware in some corner of my consciousness that I was dreaming, I recognised the green light of the forest. I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks somewhere nearby. And I knew that if I found the ocean, I’d be able to see the sun. I was trying to follow the sound, but then Jacob Black was there, tugging on my hand, pulling me back towards the blackest part of the forest. 

“Jacob? What’s wrong?” I asked. His face was frightened as he yanked with all his strength against my resistance; I didn’t want to go into the dark. 

“Run, Bella, you have to run!” He whispered, terrified. 

“This way, Bella!” I recognised Jess’ voice calling out of the gloomy heart of the trees, but I couldn’t see her. 

“Why?” I asked, still pulling against Jacobs grasp, desperate now to find the sun. 

But Jacob let go of my hand and helped, suddenly shaking, falling to the dim forest floor. He twitched on the ground as I watched in horror. 

“Jacob!” I screamed. But he was gone. In his place was a large red-brown wolf with black eyes. The wolf faced away from me, pointing toward the shore, the hair on the back of his shoulders bristling, low growls issuing from between his exposed fangs. 

“Bella, run!” Jess cried out again from behind me. But I didn’t turn. I was watching a light coming toward me from the beach. 

And then Edward stepped out from the trees, his skin faintly glowing, his eyes black and dangerous. He held up one hand and beckoned me to come to him. The wolf growled at my feet. 

I took a step forward, toward Edward. He smiled then, and his teeth were sharp, pointed. 

“Trust me,” he said. 

I took another step. 

The wolf launched himself across the space between me and the vampire, fangs aiming for the jugular. 

“No!” I screamed, wrenching upright out of my bed. 

My sudden movement caused the headphones to pull the CD player off the bedside table, and it clattered to the wooden floor. 

My light was still on, and I was sitting fully dressed on the bed, with my boots on. I glanced, disorientated, at the clock on my dresser. It was five-thirty in the morning. 

I groaned, fell back, and rolled over into my face, kicking off my Docs.

I was too uncomfortable to get anywhere near sleep, though. I rolled back over and unbuttoned my jeans, yanking them off awkwardly as I tried to stay horizontal. I could feel the braid in my hair, an uncomfortable ridge along the back of my skull. I turned onto my side and ripped the rubber band out, quickly combing through the plaits with my fingers. I hated dealing with long hair. 

It was all no use, of course. My subconscious had dredged up exactly the images I’d been trying so desperately to avoid. I was going to have to face them now. 

I sat up, and my head spun for a minute as the blood flowed downwards. First things first, I thought to myself, happy to put it off as long as possible. I grabbed my bathroom bag. 

The shower didn’t last nearly as long as I hoped it would, though. Even taking the time to blow-dry my hair, I was soon out of things to do in the bathroom. Wrapped in a towel, I crossed back to my room. I couldn’t tell if Charlie was still asleep, or if he had already left. I went to look out my window, and the cruiser was gone. Fishing again. 

I dressed slowly in my most comfy sweats and then made my bed—something I never did. I couldn’t put it off any longer. I went to my desk and switched on my old computer. 

I hated using the internet here. My modem was sadly outdated, and just loading up a browser took so long that I decided to go get myself a bowl of cereal while I waited. 

I ate slowly, chewing each bite with care. When I was done, I washed the bowl and spoon, dried them, and put them away. My feet dragged as I climbed the stairs. I went to my CD player first, picking it up off the floor and placing it precisely in the centre of the table. I pulled out the headphones, and put them away in the desk drawer. Then I turned the same CD on, turning it down to the point where it was background noise. 

With another sigh, I turned to my computer. Natural, the screen was covered in pop-ups. I sat in my hard folding chair and began closing all the little security windows. Eventually I made it to Google. I typed in one word. 

_Vampire._

It took an infuriatingly long time, of course. When the results came up, there was a lot to sift through—everything from movies and TV shows to role-playing games, underground metal, and an alarming amount of porn. 

I eventually found a promising site—Vampires A-Z. I waited impatiently for it to load, quickly clicking closed each ad that flashed across the screen. Finally it came up—a simple white background with black text, academic-looking. Two quotes greeted me on the home page:

_Throughout the vast shadowy world of ghosts and demons there is no figure so terrible, no figure so dreaded and abhorred, yet dight with such fearful fascination, as the vampire, who is himself neither ghosts nor demon, but yet who partakes the dark natures and possesses the mysterious and terrible qualities of both.—Rev. Montague Summers_

_If there is in this world a well-attested account, it is that of the vampires. Nothing is lacking: official reports, affidavits of well-known people, of surgeons, of priests, of magistrates; the judicial proof is most complete. And with all that, who is there who believes in vampires?—Rousseau_

The rest of the site was an alphabetised listing of all the different myths of vampires held throughout the world. The first I clicked on, the _Danag_ , was a Filipino vampire supposedly responsible for planting taro on the islands long ago. The myth continued that the _Danag_ worked with humans for many years, but the partnership ended one day when a woman cut her finger and a _Danag_ sucked her wound, enjoying the taste so much that it drained her body completely of blood. 

I read carefully through the descriptions, looking for anything that sounded familiar, let alone plausible—a word becoming increasingly relative. It seemed that most vampire myths centred around beautiful women as demons and children as victims; they also seemed like constructs created to explain away the high mortality rates for young children, and to give men an excuse for infidelity. Many of the stories involved bodiless spirits and warnings against improper burials. There wasn’t much that sounded like the movies I’d seen, and only a very few, like the Hebrew _Estrie_ and the Polish _Upier_ , seemed preoccupied with drinking blood. 

Only three entries really caught my attention: the Romanian _Varacolaci_ , a powerful undead being who could appear as a beautiful, pale-skinned human, the Slovak _Nelapsi_ , a creature so strong and fast it could massacre an entire village in the single hour after midnight, and one other, the _Stregoni benefici_. 

About this last there was only one brief sentence. 

_Stregoni benefici: and Italian vampire, said to be on the side of goodness, and a mortal enemy of all evil vampires._

It was a relief, that one small entry, the one myth among hundreds that claimed the existence of good vampires. 

Overall, though, there was little that coincided with Jacob’s stories or my own observations. I’d made a little catalogue in my mind as I’d read and carefully compared it with each myth. Speed, strength, beauty, eyes that shift colour; and then Jacob’s criteria: blood drinkers, enemies of the werewolf, cold-skinned, and immortal. There were very few myths that matched even one factor. 

And then another problem, one that I’d remembered from the small number of scary movies that I’d seen and was backed up by today’s ready—vampires couldn’t come out in the daytime, the sun would burn them to a cinder. They slept in coffins all day and came out only at night. 

Aggravated, I snapped off the computers main power switch, not waiting to shut things down properly. Through my irritation, I felt overwhelming embarrassment. It was all so stupid. I was sitting in my room, researching vampires. What was wrong with me? I decided that most of the blame belonged on the doorstep of the town of Forks—and the entire sodden Olympic Peninsula, for that matter. 

I had to get out of the house, but there was nowhere I wanted to go that didn’t involve a three-day drive. I pulled on my boots anyway, unclear where I was headed, and went downstairs. I shrugged into my raincoat without checking the weather and stomped out the door. 

It was overcast, but not raining yet. I ignored my truck and started east on foot, angling across Charlie’s yard toward the ever-encroaching forest. It didn’t take long till I was deep enough for the house and road to be invisible, for the only sound to be the squish of the damp earth under my feet and the sudden cries of the jays. 

There was a thin ribbon of a trail that led through the forest here, or I wouldn’t risk wandering in my own like this. My sense of direction was hopeless; I could get lost in much less helpful surroundings. The trail wound deeper and deeper into the forest, mostly east as far as I could tell. It snaked around the Sitka caprices and the hemlocks, the yews and the maples. I only vaguely knew the names of the trees around me, and all I knew was due to Charlie pointing them out to me from the cruiser window in earlier days. There were many I didn’t know, and others I couldn’t be sure about because they were so covered in green parasites. 

I followed the trail as long as my anger at myself pushed me forward. As that started to ebb, I slowed. A few drops of moisture trickled down from the canopy above me, but I couldn’t be certain if it was beginning to rain or if it was simply pools left over from yesterday, held high in the leaves above me, slowly dripping their way back to the earth. A recently fallen tree—I knew it was recent because it wasn’t entirely carpeted in moss—rested against the trunk of one of her sisters, creating a sheltered little bench just a few feet off the trail. I stepped over the ferns and sat carefully, making sure my jacket was between the damp seat and my clothes wherever they touched, and leaned my hooded head back against the living tree. 

This was the wrong place to have come, I should have known, but where else was there to go? The forest was deep green and far too much like the scene in last nights dream to allow for peace of mind. Now that there was no longer the sound of my soggy footsteps, the silence was piercing. The birds were quiet, too, the drops increasing in frequency, so it must be raining above. The ferns stood higher than my head, now that I was seated, and I knew someone could walk by on the path, three feet away, and not see me. 

Here in the trees it was much easier to believe the absurdities that embarrassed me indoors. Nothing had changed in this forest for thousands of years, and all the myths and legend of a hundred different lands seemed much more likely in this green have than they had in my clear-cut bedroom. 

I forced myself to focus on the two most vital questions I had to answer, but I did so unwillingly. 

First, I had to decide if it was possible that what Jacob had said about the Cullens could be true. 

Immediately my mind responded with a resounding negative. It was silly and morbid to entertain such ridiculous notions. But what then? I asked myself. There was no rational explanation for how I was alive at this moment. I listed again in my head the things I’d observed myself: the impossible speed and strength, the eye colour shifting from black to gold and back again, the inhuman beauty. and more—small things that registered slowly—how they never seemed to eat, the disturbing grace with which they moved. And the way Edward sometimes spoke, with unfamiliar cadences and phrases that better fit the style of a turn-of-the-century novel than that of a twenty-first-century classroom. He had skipped class the day we’d done blood typing. He hadn’t said no to the beach trip until he heard where we were going. He seemed to know what everyone around him was thinking...except me. He had told me he was the villain (although Alice had mocked him for it). 

Could the Cullens be vampires? 

They were definitely _something_. Something outside the possibility of rational justification was taking place in front of my incredulous eyes. Whether it be Jacobs _cold ones_ or my own superhero theory, the Cullens were not...human. They were something more. 

So then—maybe. That would have to be my answer for now. 

And then the most important question of all. What was I going to do if it was true? 

_If_ they were vampires—I could hardly make myself think the words—then what should I do? Involving someone else was definitely out. I couldn’t even believe myself; anyone I told would have me committed. 

Only two options seemed practical. The first was to take Edward’s advice: to be smart, to avoid him as much as possible. To cancel our plans, to go back to ignoring him as far as I was able. To pretend there was an impenetrably thick glass wall between us in the one class where we were forced together. To tell him to leave my alone—and actually follow through this time. 

I remembered Jess’ determination to set me up with Rosalie—she’d kill me before I was allowed to avoid the Cullens. Fear of Jess won out over any fear of unknown supernatural forces. So option two. 

I could do nothing different. After all, if they were something...sinister, the Cullens had done nothing to hurt me, or anyone in town, so far. In fact, I would be a dent in Tyler’s fender if Edward hadn’t acted so quickly. So quickly, I argued with myself, that it might have been sheer reflexes. But if it was a reflex to save lives, how bad could he be? I retorted. My head spun around in answerless circles. 

I thought back to Dr. Carlisle, and the kids from the reservation. I remembered how Charlie had so adamantly defended the Cullens in my first week, and how upset he’d been with Billy. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that you shouldn’t anger your parents. And I knew in that I had my answer. 

I shivered and rose quickly from my place of concealment, worried that somehow the path would have disappeared with the rain. 

But it was there, safe and clear, winding its way out of the dripping green maze. I followed it hastily, my good pulled close around my face, becoming surprised, as I nearly ran through the trees, at how far I’d come. I started to wonder if I was heading out at all, or following the path farther into the confines of the forest. Before I could get too panicky, though, I began to glimpse some open spaces through the webbed branches. And then I could hear a cat passing on the street, and I was free, Charlie’s lawn stretched out in front of me, the house beckoning me, promising warmth and dry socks. 

It was just noon when I got back inside. I went upstairs and got dressed, jeans and a T-shirt, since I was staying indoors. It didn’t take too much effort to concentrate on my task for the day, a paper on _Twelfth Night_ that was due Wednesday. I settled into outlining a rough draft contentedly, more serene than I’d felt since...well, since Thursday afternoon, if I was being honest. 

That had always been my way, though. Making decisions was the painful part for me, the part I agonised over. But once the decision was made, I simply followed through—usually with relief that the choice was made. Sometimes the relief was tainted by despair, like my decision to come to Forks. But it was still better than wrestling with the alternatives. 

And so the day was quiet, productive—I finished my paper before eight. Charlie came home with a large catch, and I made a mental note to pick up a book of recipes for fish while I was in Seattle next week. 

I slept dreamlessly that night, exhausted from beginning my day so early, and sleeping so poorly the night before. I work, for the second time since arriving in Forks, to the bright yellow light of a sunny day. I skipped to the window, stunned to see that there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and those there were just fleecy little white puffs that couldn’t possibly be carrying any rain. I opened the window—a surprisingly difficult task, the frame stuck together after years of being shut—and sucked in the relatively dry air. It was nearly warm and hardly windy at all. My blood was electric in my veins. 

Charlie was finishing breakfast when I came downstairs, and he picked up on my mood immediately. 

“Nice day out,” he commented. 

“Yeah,” I agreed with a grin. 

He smiled back, his brown eyes crinkling around the edges. When Charlie smiled, it was easier to see why he and my mother had jumped too quickly into an early marriage. Most of the young romantic he’d been in those days had faded before I’d known him, as the curly brown hair—the same colour, if not the same texture, as mine—had dwindled, slowly revealing more and more of the shiny skin of his forehead. But when he smiled I could see a little of the man who had run away with Renée when she was just two years older than I was now. 

I ate breakfast cheerily, watching the dust motes stirring in the sunlight that streamed in the back window. Charlie called out a goodbye, and I heard the cruiser pull away from the house. I hesitated on my way out the door, hand on my jacket. It would be tempting fate to leave it at home. With a sigh, I folded it over my arm and stepped out into the brightest light I’d seen in months. 

By dint of much elbow grease, I was able to get both windows in the truck almost completely rolled down. I was one of the first ones to school; I hadn’t even checked the clock in my hurry to get outside. I parked and headed towards the picnic benches on the south side of the cafeteria. They were still a little damp, so I sat on my jacket, glad to have a use for it. My homework was done—the product of a slow social life—but there were a few Trig problems I wasn’t sure I had right. I took out my book industriously, but halfway through checking the first problem I was daydreaming, watching the sunlight okay in the red-barked trees. I sketched inattentively along the margins. After a few minutes, I suddenly realised I’d drawn five pairs of dark eyes staring out of the page at me. I scrubbed them out with the eraser. 

“Bella!” I heard someone call. I looked around to realise that the school had become populated while I’d been sitting there, absentminded. Everyone was in T-shirt’s, some even in shorts though the temperature couldn’t be over sixty. Mike was coming toward me in khaki shorts and a striped rugby shirt, waving. 

“Hey, Mike,” I called, waving back. 

He came to sit by me, the tidy spikes of his hair shining golden in the light, his fern stretching across his face. 

“I never noticed before—your hair has red in it,” he commented, catching between his fingers a chunk that had come loose from my ponytail.

“Only in the sun.”

I became uncomfortable as he let the strand go, the ends tickling my neck. 

“Great day, isn’t it? I’m sure your Arizona genes are loving it.” 

“Well the albino cancels it out,” I shot back, referencing the joke that was now routinely used against both me and Eric. 

He laughed. “What did you do yesterday?”

“I mostly worked on my essay.” I didn’t add that I was finished with it—no need to sound smug. 

He hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Oh yeah—that’s due Thursday, right?” 

“Um, Wednesday, I think.”

“Wednesday?” He frowned. “That’s not good... What are you writing yours on?”

“Whether Sir Toby’s alcoholism is symptomatic of an underlying issue with depression and grief.” 

He stared at me like I’d just spoken in pig Latin. 

“I guess I’ll have to work on that tonight,” he said, deflated. “I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out.”

“Oh.” I was taken off guard. 

“You could always come over...then we could work on it together?” He smiled at me hopefully. 

“Mike...” I hated being put on the spot. “I’ve got chores.” His face fell. “But you could always ask Jess?” 

He was bewildered. “Jessica? Why?” 

“Well, she’s good at English too,” I paused. “And I think—and if you ever repeat what I’m saying right now I will cheerfully best you to death—I think it would make her day.” 

“Why?” 

Why are the boys at this school such idiots when it came to girls? 

“Really, Mike, are you _blind_?”

“Oh,” He exhaled, clearly dazed. I heard the bell go off inside the building. 

“It’s time for class, and I can’t be late again.” I gathered my books up, and stuffed them in my bag. 

We walked in silence to building three, and his expression was distracted. I hoped whatever thoughts he was immersed in were leading him in the right direction. 

When I saw Jess in Trig, she was bubbling with enthusiasm. She, Angela and Lauren were going to Port Angeles tonight to go dress shopping for the dance, and she wanted me to come too, even though I didn’t need one. It would be nice to get out of town with some friends, but Lauren would be there, and spontaneous plans were never my favourite. 

So I gave her a maybe, telling her I’d have to talk with Charlie first. 

She talked of nothing but the dance on the way to Spanish, continuing as if without interruption when class finally ended, five minutes late, and we were on our way to lunch. I was far too lost in my own frenzy of anticipation to notice most of what she said. I was painfully eager to see the Cullens—to compare them with the new suspicions that plagued my mind. As I crossed the threshold of the cafeteria, I felt the first true tingle of fear slither down my spine and settle in my stomach. Would they be able to know what I was thinking? Would Edward and Alice be waiting to sit with me again? 

As was my routine, I glanced first towards the Cullens’ table. A shiver of panic trembled in my stomach as I realised it was empty. My eyes scoured the rest of the cafeteria, hoping to find the two my age, waiting for me. The place was nearly filled—Spanish had made us late—but there was no sign of Edward and Alice, or any of their family. 

I thought of the bright sunlight I’d been been so happy to see this morning. 

We were late enough that everyone was already at our table. I avoided the empty chair next to Mike in favour of one by Angela. I noticed that Mike held the chair out politely for Jess, and that her face lit up in response. 

Angela asked a few quiet questions about the Twelfth Night paper, which I answered as naturally as I could while my mind whirled with theories. She, too, invited me to go with them tonight, and I agreed now, grasping at anything to distract myself. 

I realised I’d been holding on to a last shred of hope when I entered Biology, saw his empty seat, and felt a new wave of disappointment. 

The rest of the day passed slowly, dismally. In Gym, we had a lecture about the rules of badminton, the next torture they had lined up for me. But at least it meant I got to sit and listen instead of stumbling around on the court. The best part was the coach didn’t finish, so I got another day off tomorrow. Never mind that the day after they would arm me with a racket before unleashing me on the rest of the class. 

I was glad to leave campus, so I would be free to pout and mope before I went out tonight with Jess and company. But right after I walked in the door of Charlie’s house, Jess called to cancel our plans. She was ecstatic that Mike had asked her to dinner, and my genuine enthusiasm broke me out of the fog I’d been in all day. She rescheduled our shopping trip for tomorrow night. 

When the call ended, I was left again with little in the way of distractions. I had fish marinating for dinner, with a salad and bread left over from the night before, so there was nothing to do there. I spent a focused half hour on homework, but then I was through with that, too. I checked me email, reading the backlog of letters from my mother, getting snippier as they progressed to the present. I sighed and typed a quick response. 

_Mom,_

_Sorry, I’ve been out. I went to the beach with some friends, and then I had to write an essay._

My excuses were fairly pathetic, so I gave up on that. 

_It’s sunny outside today—I know, I’m shocked too—so I’m going outside to soak up as much vitamin D as I can. I love you,_

_Bella._

I decided to kill an hour with non-school related reading. I had a small collection of book that came with me to Forks, the shabbiest volume being a compilation of the works of Jane Austen. I selected that one and headed to the backyard, grabbing a ragged old quilt from the linen cupboard at the top of the stairs on my way down. 

Outside in Charlie’s small, square yard, I folded the quilt in half and laid it out of the reach of the trees shadows on the thick lawn. I lay on my stomach, crossing my ankles in the air, slipping through the different novels in the book, trying to decide which would occupy my mind the most thoroughly. My favourites were _Pride and Prejudice_ and _Sense and Sensibility_ , but I’d read them both recently, so I started into _Emma_. Emma Woodhouse had been the subject of many debate between me and Blair; she consistently argued that the heroine was unlikeable, while I defended Emma with reminders of her fierce intellect, and that she is remarkably caring considering how her father brought her up. My fervent defence may have been due to my personal theory that Emma was partial to the company of women—her lack of interest in any men and blindness to the flaws in Harriet made it clear, to me at least, that she was a friend of Dorothy. 

I lost myself in the novel, wrapped up in the schadenfreude of regency society, and the next thing I was conscious of was the sound of Charlie’s cruiser turning onto the bricks of the driveway. I sat up in surprise, realising the light was nearly gone. I looked around, muddled. 

“Charlie?” I asked. But I could hear his door slamming in front of the house. 

I jumped up, foolishly edgy, gathering the now-damp quilt and my book. I ran inside to get some oil heating on the stove, realising that dinner would be late. Charlie was handing up his gun belt and stepping out of his boots when I came in. 

“I’m really sorry, Dad, dinner’s not ready yet—I got carried away reading outside.” I anxiously started pulling out utensils. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. I looked up in surprise. “I wanted to catch the score on the game anyway.” 

I watched TV with Charlie after dinner, for something to do. There wasn’t anything on that I wanted to watch, but he knew I didn’t like baseball, so he turned it to some mindless sitcom that neither of us enjoyed. He seemed happy, though, just to be doing something together. 

“Dad,” I said during a commercial, “Jess and Angela are going to look at dresses for the dance tomorrow night in Port Angeles, and they wanted me to help them choose...do you mind if I go with them?”

“Jessica Stanley?” He asked. 

“And Angela Weber.” I sighed as I gave him the details. 

He was confused. “But you’re not going to the dance, right?” 

“No, Dad, but I’m helping _them_ find dresses—you know, giving them constructive criticism.” 

“Well, okay.” He seemed to realise he was out of his depth with the girlie stuff. “It’s a school night, though.” 

“We’ll leave right after school, so we can get back early. You’ll be okay for dinner, right?” 

“Bells, I fed myself for seventeen years before you got here,” he reminded me. 

“I don’t know how you survived,” I muttered, then added more clearly, “I’ll leave some things for cold-cut sandwiches in the fridge, okay? Right on top.” 

It was sunny again in the morning. I dressed for the warmer weather in a T-shirt and thin denim jacket—something I’d have worn in the dead of winter in Phoenix. 

I had planned my arrival at school so that I barely had time to make it to class. While I circled the full lot looking for a space, I noticed the conspicuous absence of the silver Volvo. I parked in the last row, and hurried to English, arriving breathless, but subdued, before the final bell. 

It was the same as yesterday—I couldn’t keep little sprouts of excitement from budding in my mind, only to have them squashed painfully as I searched the lunchroom in vain. 

The Port Angeles scheme was back on again for tonight, and made all the more attractive by the fact that Lauren had other obligations. I was anxious to get out of town so I could stop glancing over my shoulder, hoping to see one of the mysterious Cullens. I vowed to myself that I would be in a good mood tonight and not ruin Angela or Jess’ enjoyment in the dress hunting. Maybe I could do a little clothes shopping as well. I refused to think that I might be shopping alone in Seattle this weekend. Surely he wouldn’t cancel without at least telling me. 

After school, Jess followed me home in her old white Mercury so that I could ditch my books and truck. I brushed through my hair quickly when I was inside, feeling a slight lift of excitement as I contemplated getting out of Forks. I left a note for Charlie on the table, explaining again where to find dinner, switched my scruffy wallet from my school bag to a tote I rarely used, and ran to join Jess. We went to Angela’s house next, and she was waiting for us. My excitement increased exponentially as we actually drove out of the town limits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so excited for the next chapter you guys have no idea. 
> 
> Can someone tell me what the hell Americans wear to spring dances? I want to maybe change what Jess wears but I don’t know the dress code.


	9. Port Angeles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: this chapter contains a character narrowly avoiding rape, and the would-be-rapists being beaten up. The violence and assault are both more graphic than the original novel. 
> 
> To avoid the sexual assault, stop reading at the phrase “I was being herded“ and start again at “I opened my eyes“
> 
> To avoid the violence stop reading at the phrase “I opened my eyes“ and start again at “It was dark in the car.“ 
> 
> To avoid both, stop reading at the phrase “I was being herded“ and start again at “It was dark in the car“

Jess drove faster than the chief so we made it to Port Angeles by four. It had been a while since I’d had a girls night out, but it was easy to slip back into the routine. We listened to whiny rock songs while Jess talked about her dinner with Mike; she was hoping that by Saturday they would have progressed to the first-kiss stage. I smiled to myself, pleased at their progress. Angela was passively happy to be going to the dance, but not really interested in Eric. Jess tried to get her to confess who her type was, but I interrupted with a question about dresses after a bit, to spare her. Angela threw a grateful glance my way. 

Port Angeles was a beautiful little tourist trap, much more polished and quaint than Forks. But Jess and Angela knew it well, so they didn’t plan to waste time on the picturesque boardwalk by the bay. Jess drove straight to the one big department store in town, which was a few streets in from the bay area’s visitor-friendly face. 

The dance was billed as semi formal, and we weren’t exactly sure what that meant. Both Jess and Angela seemed surprised and almost disbelieving when I told them I’d never been to a dance in Phoenix. 

“Didn’t you ever go with a girlfriend or something?” Jess asked dubiously as we walked through the front doors of the store. 

“Really,” I tried to convince her, not wanting to confess my dancing problems. “I’ve never had a girlfriend or anything close. I didn’t go out much.” 

“Someone tell that to Tyler.“ Angela said, before Jess turned to look at her sharply. 

There was a pause. 

“What did Tyler say?” I asked, tense. 

Jess looked uncomfortable. “Honestly Bella, don’t worry about it.” 

“He said your girlfriend was coming up from Phoenix for prom,” Angela said, looking nervous. “And that you were both going to the dance with him. That you’d promised a _threesome_.” She whispered the last word, glancing around the shops shiftily.

“That’s why Lauren doesn’t like you,” Jess added. 

I was speechless. 

“That’s not—I would never...” they both looked at me sympathetically. 

“We know,” Jess murmured, Angela humming in confirmation, “But he’s spread it around, and a lot of people believe him—he’s Tyler, you know? God's gift to Forks high school. It would take him committing genocide for them to admit he's an asshole."

Angela hummed in agreement. 

I snorted. “Do you think that if I ran him over with my truck his gross obsession would be over? That he might give up on harassing me?” 

“It’s worth a try,” Angela said dryly. Jess hummed in agreement.

The dress selection wasn’t large, but both of them found a few things to try on. I sat in a low chair just inside the dressing room, by the three-way mirror, trying not to think about Tyler. 

Jess was torn between two—a knee length dark yellow dress with spaghetti straps or a long, strapless, basic black number. I encouraged her to go with the yellow; it looked amazing with her dark skin. Angela chose a pale pink dress that draped around her tall frame nicely and brought out the honey highlights in her dark brown hair. I complimented them both generously and helped by returning the rejects to their racks. The whole process was much shorter and easier than similar trips I’d taken with Renée at home. I guess there was something to be said for limited choices. 

We head over to shoes and accessories. While they tried things on I merely watched and critiqued, not in the mood to shop for myself, though I did need new shoes. The girls-night high was wearing off in the wake of my annoyance at Tyler, leaving room for the gloom to move back in. 

“Angela?” I began, hesitant, while she was trying in a pair of pink heels—she was overjoyed to have a date tall enough that could could wear high heels at all. Jess had drifted to the jewellery counter and we were alone. 

“Yes?” She held her leg out, twisting her ankle to get a better view of the shoe. 

I chickened out. “I like those.” 

“I think I’ll get them—though they’ll never match anything but the one dress,” she mused. 

“Oh, go ahead—they’re on sale,” I encouraged. She smiled, putting the lid back on a box that contained more practical-looking white shoes. 

I tried again. “Um, Angela...” she looked up curiously. 

“Is it normal for the Cullens”—I kept my eyes on the shoes—“to be out of school a lot?” I failed miserably in my attempt to sound nonchalant. 

“Yes, when the weather is good they go backpacking all the time—even the doctor. They’re all real outdoorsy,” she told me quietly. She didn’t ask one question, let alone the hundreds that Jess would’ve unleashed. I was beginning to really like Angela. 

“Oh.” I let the subject drop as Jess returned to show us the silver rings she’d found to go with the colourful beaded bracelets from her mom. 

We planned to go to dinner at a a little Italian restaurant on the board walk, but the dress shopping hadn’t taken as long as we’d expected. Jess and Angela were going to take their clothes back to the car and then walk down to the bay. I told them I would meet them at the restaurant in an hour—I wanted to look for a bookstore. They were both willing to come with me, but I encouraged them to go have fun—they didn’t know how preoccupied I could get when surrounded by books; it was something I preferred to do alone. They walked off to the car chattering happily, and I headed in the direction Jess pointed out. 

I had no trouble finding the bookstore, but it wasn’t what I was looking for. The windows were full of crystals and books about spiritual healing. I didn’t even go inside. Through the glass I could see a fifty-year-old white woman with long grey hair waving burning sage around the shop, clad in a dress right out of the sixties. I decided that was one conversation I could skip. There had to be a normal bookstore in town. 

I meandered through the streets, which were filling up with rush-hour traffic, and hoped I was headed towards downtown. I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should to where I was going; I was wrestling with my own curiosity. I was trying so hard not to think about the Cullens, and what Angela has said. 

I stomped along in a southerly direction, towards some glass-fronted shops that looked promising. But when I got to then, they were just a repair shop and a vacant space. I still had too much time to go looking for Jess and Angela, and I definitely needed to get my mood in hand before I met back up with them. I ran my fingers through my hair a couple of times and took some deep breaths before I continued around the corner. 

I started to realise, as I crossed another road, that I was going in the wrong direction. The little foot traffic I had seen was going north, and it looked like the buildings here were mostly warehouses. I decided to turn east at the next corner, and then loop around after a few blocks and try my luck in a different street in my way back to the boardwalk. 

A group of four men turned around the corner I was handing for, dressed too casually to be heading home from work, but too grimy to be tourists. As they approached me, I realised they weren’t that much older than I was. They were joking loudly among themselves, laughing raucously and punching each other’s arms. I scooted as far to the inside of the sidewalk as I could to give them room, and smelt the thick stench of alcohol surrounding them. 

“Hey, there!” One of them called as they passed, and he had to be talking to me as no one else was around. I glanced up automatically. Two of them had paused, and the other two were slowing. The closest, a heavyset, blond man in his early twenties, seemed to be the one who had spoken. He was wearing some sports team T-shirt, cut off jeans and sandals. He took half a step towards me. 

“Hello,” I mumbled, a knee-jerk reaction. Then I quickly looked away and walked fast toward the corner. I could hear them laughing at full volume behind me. 

“Hey, wait!” One of them called after me again, but I kept me head down and rounded the corner with a sigh of relief. I could still hear them chortling behind me.

I found myself on a sidewalk leading past the backs of several somber-coloured warehouses, each with large bay doors for unloading trucks, padlocked for the night. The south side of the street had no sidewalk, only a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire protecting some kind of engine parts storage yard. I’d wandered far past the part of Port Angeles that I, as a guest, was intended to see. It was getting dark, I realised, the clouds finally returning, piling up in the western horizon, creating an early sunset. The eastern sky was still clear, but greying, shot through with streaks of pink and orange. I’d left my jacket in the car, and a sudden shiver made me cross my arms tightly across my chest. A single red car passed me, and then the road was empty. 

The sky suddenly darkened further, and, as I looked over my shoulder to glare at the offending cloud, I realised with shock that two men were walking quietly twenty feet behind me. 

They were from the same group I’d passed at the corner, though neither were the blond one who’d spoken to me. I turned my head forward at once, quickening my pace. I knew exactly where my pepper spray was—still in my duffel bag under the bed, never unpacked. I didn’t have much money with me, just a twenty and some ones, and I thought about ‘accidentally’ dropping my tote and walking away. But a small, frightened voice in the back of my mind warmed me that they might be something worse than thieves. My stomach dropped. 

I listened intently to their footsteps, which were much too quiet when compared to the boisterous noise they’d been making earlier, and it didn’t sound like they were speeding up, or getting any closer to me. Breathe, I had to remind myself, you don’t know they’re following you. I continued to walk as quickly as I could without actually running, focusing on the right-hand turn that was only a few yards away from me now. I could hear them, staying as far back as they’d been before. A blue car turned into the street from the south and drove quickly past me. I thought of jumping out in front of it, but I hesitated, inhibited, unsure that I was really being pursued, and then it was too late. 

Fumbling with my bag, I pulled out my phone, remembering the old advice to be on a call when walking alone at night, but when I tried to turn it on, a battery symbol flashed up at me. Dead. Fuck. 

My heart was pounding. 

I reached the corner, but a swift glance revealed that it was only a blind drive to the back of another building. I was half-turned in anticipation; I had to hurriedly correct and dash across the narrow drive, back to the side walk. The street ended at the next corner, where there was a stop sign. I concentrated on the faint footsteps behind me, deciding whether or not to run, but I was sure to trip and go sprawling if I tried to go any faster. The footfalls were definitely farther back. I risked a quick glance over my shoulder, and they were maybe forty feet back now, I saw with relief. But they were both staring at me. 

It seemed to take forever for me to get to the corner. I kept my pace steady, the men behind me asking ever so slightly farther behind with every step. Maybe they realised they had scared me and were sorry. I saw two cars going north pass the intersection I was heading for, and I exhaled in relief. There would be more people around once I got off this deserted street. I skipped around the corner with a grateful sigh. 

And skidded to a stop. 

The street was lined on both sides by blank, doorless, windowless walls. I could see in the distance, two intersections down, street lamps, cars, and more pedestrians, but they were all too far away. Because lounging against the western building, midway down the street, were the two other men from the group, both watching with excited smiles as I froze dead on the sidewalk. I realised then that I wasn’t being followed. 

I was being herded. 

I paused for only a second, but it felt like a very long time. I turned then and darted to the other side of the road. I had a sinking feeling that it was a wasted attempt. The footsteps behind me were louder now. 

“There you are!” The booming voice of the stocky, dark-haired man shattered the intense quiet and made me jump. In the gathering darkness, it seemed like he was looking past me. 

“Yeah,” a voice called loudly from behind me, making me jump again. “We just took a little detour.”

My steps had to slow now. I was closing the distance between myself and the lounging pair too quickly. I looked around desperately, but there were no cameras on this street, and no other pedestrians. I was on my own. 

I had a good loud scream, and I sucked in air, preparing to use it, but my throat was so dry I wasn’t sure how much volume I could manage. With a quick movement, I slipped off my tote, gripping the strap with one hand, easy to surrender it or use it as a weapon as need demanded. 

The thickset, blond man shrugged away from the wall as I warily came to a stop, and walked slowly across the street towards me. 

“Stay away from me,” I warned in a voice that was supposed to sound strong and fearless. But I was right about the dry throat—no volume. 

“Don’t me like that sugar,” he called, and the raucous laughter started again behind me. 

“My dad—he’s a police chief,” I was grasping at straws, desperately trying to prevent what was about to happen. 

The leader smirked. “Funny that,” he jerked his head towards one of the pair who’d been following me. “So’s his dad.” 

I braced myself, feet part, trying to remember through my panic what little self-defence I knew. Heel of the hand thrust upward, hopefully breaking the nose or shoving it into the brain. Finger through the eye socket—try to hook around and pop the eye out. And the standard knee to the groin. That same pessimistic voice in my mind spoke up then, reminding me that I probably wouldn’t have a chance against one of them, let along four. 

I tried to swallow so I could build up a decent scream.

He lunged for me, faster than I could hope to move, pinning me against the wall. I heard his friends snicker in the background, his hot breath on my face. I struggled, desperately kicking out at him, but he grabbed my wrists and twisted them sharply. I yelped in pain. 

He slammed my arms above my head, reaching down with one of his hands to fumble with my belt. I felt my legs go numb, and a ringing filled my ears, drowning out the laughter. All I could feel was his hands on my skin, sweaty and wrong. 

I closed my eyes. 

He ripped open my jeans. 

A car screeched around the corner, headlights flashing against the lids of my eyes. I heard a door slam open, and he let go of me, kneeing me in the stomach as I slumped over. 

I opened my eyes, my senses still dulled by fear, and dimly registered the silhouette of a woman approaching the group that had formed around me. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” She hissed, looking up at them. I wanted to tell her to run, to get away, but my mouth wouldn’t open. 

“It’s just a little fun,” I heard a male voice slur in response. “But we wouldn’t mind your company too.” 

The woman snarled, and the groups laughter petered off. 

“C’mon doll—“ one of them began, but she lunged, and the rest of his sentence was replaced by a scream and a harsh cracking noise. 

The others began to move away, but suddenly she was behind them, and another two went down, bodies slumping to the ground silently with a dull thud. 

Though the haze I noticed that only the blond man was left. He tried to back up, but he stumbled over the legs of his friends and fell backwards. The woman walked towards him slowly, mimicking the predatory gait of his friends. I heard him whimper, quietly, and she slammed her shoe into his knee, snapping it. He let out a scream of pain, which quickly turned into a howl as she kicked his ribs. My hands scrambled for purchase on the ground, trying to drag myself away before she noticed me. 

She turned to me, and I finally recognised her. Rosalie crouched down slowly, reaching out her hand. 

“Bella?” Her voice was so much softer than it had been. “Do you want to come with me?” 

I nodded slowly, and uncurled, trying to reach for my bag. 

“Let me.” She grabbed it, and moved towards me, pulling me up with far greater ease than I expected. “C’mon, the cars just here. Just a bit further.” 

I hobbled towards the passenger door, legs shaking, and she manoeuvred me inside. I thought she would walk around to get in, but she went back to the men on the ground, dragging them off the road and closer together. As she walked back towards me, I saw her muttering to herself. She got in, and I managed to catch the end of her sentence. 

“—ell me next time you asshole.” 

It was dark in the car, and I could barely see her face in the glow from the dashboard. The tires squealed as she spun around to face south, accelerating too quickly. 

“Put on your seatbelt,” she said gently, and I realised I was clutching the seat with both hands. I quickly obeyed; the snap as the belt connected was loud in the darkness. 

I started to do up my jeans, hands shaking, when a buzz startled me, and adrenaline surged through me again. 

“No, Bella, it’s alright, it’s just my phone,” Rosalie murmured, sensing my anxiety. “Would you be able to check it for me please? I think I should stay focused on the road.” 

I nodded in acquiescence, numb fingers reaching for the phone I know saw resting on the dashboard. I turned it on, and saw a message displayed on the glaringly bright screen. 

Alice 17:48  
_Would you have gone if I’d told you the truth?_

I relayed this to Rosalie, and her shoulders tensed. “Fucking hell, of _course_ I would’ve Alice!” 

I looked down at the phone, wondering whether I should try to reply, when another message lit up the screen. 

Alice 17:49  
_I had to be sure._

Rosalie had heard the new notification, and she glanced at me, clearly wanting to know what it said. I read it out, and she cursed. 

“Jesus Christ Alice.” She looked over to me. “Bella, I’m going to pull over now.” 

I nodded, and felt the car slow down. She fully rotated in her seat to face me. 

“Jess and Angela will be worried.” I said. “I was supposed to meet them.” 

Her face was sympathetic, which just made me feel dirtier. The fog in my head had gone now, and all that was left was a feeling of intense self-hatred. 

“Bella,” Rosalie said again. “We can go and meet them. That’s fine. But first you are going to clean yourself up, and you are going to change into some new clothes.” She must have noticed my confusion, because she opened the glove compartment and began to pull out wet wipes and a hairbrush. “It’s not as good as a shower, but it will make you feel better. You can use them for the tears as well; I don't have any tissues, but as long as they don't go in your eye it should be fine." 

I raised my hand to my cheek, confused. The wetness there start led me. I pulled away to stare at my damp finger.

I didn't know when I'd started to cry. 

"Bella?" I heard Rosalie ask. I refocused on her face. She looked concerned. "Is that okay?" 

I nodded, and she smiled. “Okay, I’ll get out, and you can sort yourself out.” She paused, looking at my bag. “Do you have a sweatshirt or anything with you?” 

“No” I said quietly. 

“Okay, don’t worry about it, you can borrow mine.” Rosalie got out of the car, pulling off the oversized jumper she had on, leaving herself in only a ratty T-shirt. She leaned back in, holding it out to me. 

“But—won’t you be cold?” I asked, not reaching out to take it. 

“Bella, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. You just make sure you’re okay.” She dropped it onto the seat next to me, and got out, closing the door behind her. 

I took off my top, and reached out for the wipes. As I began to wipe myself down, I saw Rosalie dialling a number on her phone. Whoever she called picked up almost instantly, and she began to speak very quickly into the receiver. I grabbed the jumper and tugged it over my head, but didn’t feel the warmth I expected. It smelled amazing though, and the cool wool soothed me, my breathing finally slowing down. The sleeves were far too long, so I rolled them up to my elbows. I brushed my hair back into a ponytail, and saw Rosalie hang up the phone, walking back towards the car. I quickly shoved my top into my bag, and replaced my seatbelt. 

She got in, looking me over in concern. “Feel better?” I nodded and she started up the engine. “Good.” 

We pulled out into the road. 

“I don’t want to talk to Jess and Angela about it.” I said quietly. “Not tonight.” 

“Whatever you want Bella.” Rosalie replied. 

We sped back into the town centre, weaving with ease through the cars slowly crushing the boardwalk. She parallel-parked against the curb in a space I would have thought much too small for the car I now registered as a BMW, but she slid in effortlessly in one try. I looked out the window to see the lights of La Bella Italia, and Jess and Angela just leaving, pacing anxiously away from us. 

“How did you know where...?” I began, but then I just shook my head. I heard the door open and turned to see her getting out. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m taking you to dinner, Bella. You need to eat.” She smiled lightly, but her eyes were hard. I fumbled with my seatbelt, and then hurried to get out of the car as well. She was waiting for me on the sidewalk. 

“Jess! Angela!” I yelled after then, waving when they turned. They rushed to me, the pronounced relief on both their faces changing to surprise as they saw who I was standing next to. They hesitated a few feet from us. 

“Where have you been?” Jess said, worry evident in her voice. 

I felt bile rise in my throat, but Rosalie answered for me. “She got lost, but I ran into her and helped her find the restaurant.” 

Jess’ expression was slowly giving way to unadulterated glee. 

“I’m so sorry Bella—we already ate,” Angela confessed. Jess grabbed her arm. 

“It’s fine, Bella can just stay here with Rosalie,” she said, tugging Angela towards the car. “I think I saw a nice booth free in the corner of the restaurant.” She winked at me. 

“Okay...” Angela seemed unsure. I nodded at her, and she let herself be pulled away. 

“Honestly, I’m not hungry,” I said, turning to Rosalie. Her expression was unreadable.

“Humour me.”

She walked to the door of the restaurant and held it open with an obstinate expression. Obviously there would be no further discussion. I walked past her into the restaurant with a resigned sigh. 

The restaurant wasn’t crowded—it was off-season in Port Angeles. The host looked suspiciously at Rosalie’s T-shirt, which I now realised was stained with black oil, but his expression changed when his eyes reached her face. He welcomed her a little more warmly than necessary. 

“What can I do for you?” He asked, ignoring me entirely. 

“A table for two, please.” Her voice was cold. 

He smiled, not registering her tone. “Of course, er, mademoiselle.” He grabbed two leather folders and gestured for Rosalie to follow. He led us around a partition to a small ring of booths—all of them empty. 

“Your waiter will be right out,” the host said, before walking away. 

“Asshole.” Rosalie muttered. 

“What?” I asked, confused. 

“He’s telling our waiter how great my tits are.” 

I blink at her, confused. I couldn’t see the host anywhere, let alone a waiter. 

She snorted. “Bella, somehow you’re the only person in the whole school who’s registered that me and my family aren’t normal. I’m not happy about it, but I’m not in denial.” 

When I still didn’t respond she continued, “My hearing is very good.” 

Considering how fast Edward seemed able to move, I thought this was probably an underestimation. I grinned tentatively at her. 

“I’ll bet.”

Our server arrived, his face expectant. His eyes went almost immediately to Rosalie’s chest. Admittedly, her shirt was rather tight in that area, considering how oversized it seemed to be, but the way his eyes lingered, and his smarmy grin when he looked up, made him immediately unlikable. If I could restrain myself, so could he. 

“Hello. My name is Aiden, and I’ll be your server tonight. What can I get you to drink?” I didn’t miss that he was only speaking to Rosalie. 

I coughed, and he reluctantly turned. 

“I’ll have a lemonade please.” I said. 

“Two lemonades.” Rosalie added. 

“I’ll be right back with that,” he assured her, with another smirk. But she didn’t see it. She was watching me. 

“What?” I asked when he left. 

Her eyes stayed fixed on my face. “How are you feeling?” 

“Uh...alright I guess?” I replied, surprised by her intensity. 

“You don’t feel dizzy, sick, cold...?”

“Should I?” 

She didn’t look comforted. “I’m waiting for you to go into shock, actually.” 

“I don’t think that will happen,” I said. “I’ve always been good at repressing unpleasant things.” 

She frowned. “Just the same, I’ll feel better when you have some sugar and food in you.” 

Right on cue, the waiter appeared with our drinks and a basket of breadsticks. He stood with his back to me as he placed them on the table. 

“Are you ready to order?” He asked Rosalie. 

“Bella?” She asked. He turned unwillingly towards me. 

I picked the first thing I saw on the menu. “Um...I’ll have the quattro stagioni pizza please.” 

“And you?” He turned back to her with a smile. 

“Nothing for me.” Of course not. “We’ll share.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.” She didn’t respond, and he left dissatisfied. 

“Drink.” Rosalie ordered. 

I sipped at my lemonade obediently, then drank more deeply, surprised by how thirsty I was. I realised I had finished the whole thing when she pushed her glass towards me. 

“Thanks,” I muttered, still thirsty. The cold from the icy soda was radiating through my chest, and I shivered. 

“Are you cold?”

“It’s just the lemonade,” I explained, shivering again. “I’d be way colder if you hadn’t given me your jumper.” 

She smiled. “It’s Emmet’s actually. I didn’t want to go out in my work top so he gave me that to go over it.” 

That explained the huge sleeves. 

“Work?” I asked, curious about the stains on her T-shirt. 

“Oh, well not technically work—more of a hobby. I rebuild cars, or upgrade the ones we already have.” 

“That’s so cool.” I said. “One of my friends does that too—he built my truck.” 

“I don’t think that’s as good a compliment as you think.” Her smirk was unfairly attractive. I was blushing furiously. She pushed the bread basket towards me, gesturing for me to take some. 

“I’m not going into shock.”

“I’m just making sure.” She was frowning again. 

I picked up a breadstick anyway, and began nibbling on the end. I stared into her eyes, and saw how light they were, lighter than Edward’s ever were, golden butterscotch.

“Usually you guys are in a better mood when your eyes are so light.” I commented, trying to distract her from whatever thought had left her frowning and somber. I was honest enough to admit that I wanted to see her smile again.

She stared at me. “What?” 

“Edward’s always crabby when his eyes are black—I expect it then.” I went on. “I have a theory about that.” 

That brought the smile back to her face. “I’ve heard about your theories.” 

I didn’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to chew on a small bite of the bread. 

“I hope you were more creative this time.” Despite the humour in her voice, her eyes were still tight. 

The waiter strode around the partition with my food, interrupting me before I could reply. He set the plate in front of me—it looked pretty good—and turned quickly to Rosalie. 

“Did you change your mind?” He asked. “Isn’t there anything I can get you?” I may have been imagining the double meaning in his words. 

“No, thank you, but some more lemonade would be nice.” She gestured imperiously to the empty cups in front of me. 

“Of course.” He removed the empty glasses and walked away. 

“You were saying?” She asked. 

“I’ll tell you about it in the car. If...” I paused. 

“There are conditions?” She raised her eyebrow. 

“I do have a few questions, of course.” 

She sighed. “Of course.” 

The waiter was back with two more lemonades. He sat them down without a word this time, and left again. 

I took a sip. 

“Well, go ahead,” she pushed, her voice hard. 

I started with the most undemanding. “Why are you in Port Angeles?” 

“I needed a part for the car I’m working on—although I suspect now that Alice just hid it to get me to come here.” 

“Why did she want you to come?” 

“She knows how I feel about certain types of men.” 

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused. 

“She tries to warn me when there are certain... _incidents_ going on.” 

“But how would she know?” 

Rosalie smiled. “You’ll have to ask her that.” 

Dear God, the whole family was like this. I thought back to the bizarre text exchange in the car. 

“But why did she lie to get you here then?”

The smile vanished again. “You have Jess, I have Alice. I’m very resistant to people trying to control my life.” She paused. “I would have come if she’d told the truth though. The situation negated my personal feelings.” 

I looked down, frustrated. I picked up a slice of the pizza, tomato juice dripping onto the plate, and put it into my mouth slowly. The mushrooms were good. I swallowed and took another sip of lemonade. 

Sensing my reluctance, Rosalie decided to speak first. “Do you want to go to the police?” 

I sighed. “No.” 

“Why not?” 

“There was no actual assault.” She looked like she was about to protest, but I steamrolled over her. “Not a significant one anyway. Not enough to leave physical evidence that can’t be put down to a fall. There were no cameras in that street, so it’s my word against theirs. There are four of them, and one is the police chiefs son, apparently. It’s incredibly unlikely they would be convicted of anything, no matter what I say. All I'd be doing is maling myself a social pariah. More so than I already am.” 

Rosalie suddenly looked incredibly sad. “It never gets any better,” she murmured, almost to herself. 

“I mean, it’s not like they got off scot-free?” I said, unnerved by her despondency. “You kind of beat the crap out of them.” 

“One broken ankle, two unconscious due to head trauma, and one with fractured ribs and a shattered kneecap.” She reeled off quickly. “Plus various bruises and surface cuts. I wouldn’t say it’s a harsh punishment.” 

I didn’t know how to respond, so I continued to eat my pizza. We sat in silence for a few minutes, before I remembered another one of my questions. 

“Can you eat normal food?” 

She blinked. “What?” 

I repeated myself. 

“...Yes? Technically we can. It’s not fun though.” 

“What would eating this be like?” I waved a slice in front of her. 

“I suppose like eating dirt. Possible, but altogether unpleasant. You wouldn’t eat dirt if you had the choice would you?” 

“I have.” I said, grinning. 

“Of course you have.” She sighed. There was another pause. 

“What do you like to eat?” I dared to ask. 

She looked at me, and smirked, teeth flashing. “I wouldn’t ask that.” 

Fair enough. I continued eating. When I’d finished, she waved over the waiter. 

“Are you ready to leave?” She asked, as he walked over. 

I nodded just as he reached our table. 

“How are we doing?” He asked Rosalie. 

“We’re ready for the cheque, thank you.” 

“Of course.” He immediately pulled a small leather folder from the front pocket of his apron and handed it to her. “Here you go.” 

There was a bill in her hand already. She slipped it into the folder and handed it right back to her. 

“No change.” She smiled. Then she stood up, and I scrambled awkwardly to my feet. 

He smiled invitingly at her again. “You have a nice evening.”

She didn’t look at him as she thanked him. I suppressed a smug smile. 

When we got to the car, she opened the passenger door, holding it for me as I stepped in, shutting it softly behind me. Now I was calmer, I realised how ostentatious the car really was: a bright red convertible BMW. It made the Volvo look as outdated as my van. 

Once inside the car, she started the engine and turned the heater in high. It had gotten very cold, and I guessed the good weather was at an end. I was warm in her—Emmet’s—jumper, though, breathing in the scent of it when I thought she couldn’t see. 

Rosalie pulled out through the traffic, apparently without a glance, flipping around to head toward the freeway. 

“Now,” she said significantly, “it’s your turn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Rosalie isn’t as pissy about Bella knowing here, but that’s partially because I don’t think she would be that angry (she’s still very frustrated with how easily Edward told her stuff), but also she’s not going to be angry at a girl who was nearly raped like five minutes ago????  
> 


	10. Theory

“Can I just ask one more?” I pleaded as Rosalie accelerated much too quickly down the street. She didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the road. 

She sighed. 

“One,” she agreed. Her lips pressed together into a cautious line. 

“Well...how did you find me? There weren’t any shops in that part of town, and you said you were in Port Angeles for a part.”

She looked away, deliberating. “I was going down the back streets and heard them laughing.” 

That didn’t really answer my question, but the end of the sentence reminded me of an earlier comment. I remembered her frustration at the host and waiter. Advanced hearing—another trait to add to my ever-growing list. 

Lost in thought, my eyes trailed over the dashboard. I happened to notice the speedometer. 

“Jesus Christ!” I shouted. “Slow down!” 

“What’s wrong?” She was startled, but the car didn’t decelerate. 

“You’re going a hundred miles an hour!” I was still shouting. I shot a panicked glance out the window, but it was too dark to see much. The road was only visible in the long patch of brightness from the headlights. The forest along both sides of the road was like a black wall—as hard as a wall of steel if we veered off the road at this speed. 

“Relax, Bella.” She rolled her eyes, still not slowing. 

“Are you trying to kill us?” I demanded. 

“We’re not going to crash.”

I tried to modulate my voice. “Why are you in such a hurry?” 

“I always drive like this.” She smirked. “I’ve never been hurt.”

“That’s not as comforting as you would think!” 

She rolled her eyes at me. 

“Charlie’s a cop, remember? I was raised to abide by traffic laws. Besides if you turn us into a BMW pretzel around a tree trunk, you can probably just walk away.” 

“Fair point.” She sighed, and I watched with relief as the needle gradually drifted towards eighty. “Happy?” 

“Almost.”

“I hate driving slow,” she muttered. 

“This is slow?” 

She ignored me. “I’m still waiting for your latest theory.” 

I bit my lip. “I don’t know how to start.”

“Tell me how you came up with it.” 

“Well I didn’t—not really.” 

A smile appeared on her face. “Another movie theory?” 

“Not quite,” I paused watching her face carefully. “An old family friend—the one who does the cars—he told me a story on Saturday.” 

Her face remained inscrutable. 

“His dad is one of the Quileute elders.” Her expression didn’t change, but I thought I saw her knuckles tighten on the wheel. “We went for a walk, and he was telling me some old legends—trying to scare me I think. He told me one...”

“Go in,” she said. 

“About vampires.” I realised I was whispering. 

“And you immediately thought of us?” Her voice was strained. 

“No. He...mentioned your family.” I was suddenly glad I hadn’t mentioned Jacob’s name. “He though it was just a silly superstition. He didn’t expect me to think anything of it.” 

“What did you do then?” 

“I did some research on the internet.” 

“And did that convince you?” Her hands were still clamped hard onto the steering wheel. 

“No. Nothing fit. I planned to go to a bookshop tonight and get something on Quileute legends but I got lost and...you know how that turned out.” 

She hummed. 

“Am I right?” 

“Does it matter?” 

I took a deep breath. “Not really.” She snorted. “But I _am_ curious.” I continued. 

“What are you curious about?” 

“How old are you?” 

“Eighteen,” she answered promptly. 

I looked her up and down. "Are you sure about that?" 

Her lips twitched. "Nineteen." 

“How long have you been nineteen?” 

A fully-fledged smile broke out on her face. “A while.” 

We lapsed into a comfortable silence. Rosalie seemed far more uncomfortable with my questioning than Edward or Alice, so I decided to spare her the interrogation. I was sure her siblings would be hijacking me again soon enough. I stared out the window instead, watching the trees pass by, gradually giving way to the buildings of Forks. 

Eventually the car stopped, and we were in front on Charlie’s house. The lights were on, my truck in its place, everything utterly normal. I turned to her. 

“If you wait here for a minute I can go change and give you back the sweatshirt?”

She looked at me, confused. “You can just give it back tomorrow, can’t you?” 

I blushed. “Yeah.” 

I undid my seatbelt and climbed out of the car, grabbing my tote as I went. I was about to shut the door, when Rosalie called out. 

“Bella?”

“Yes?”

“Will you promise me something?” Her soft voice sounded sad. 

“Sure.” I said, concerned. 

“Don’t bottle it up. Talk to your friends, your family.” I shuddered slightly at the sudden bleakness in her voice. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Her eyes narrowed at my noncommittal response. 

“Sleep well,” she said. 

She waited until I had walked to the front door before starting the car. I turned to watch it disappear around the corner. 

I reached for the key mechanically, I locked the door, and stepped inside. 

Charlie called from the living room. “Bella?”

“Yeah, Dad, it’s me.” I walked in to see him. He was watching a baseball game. 

“You’re home early.” 

“Am I?” I was surprised. Renée had always had a strict curfew of seven o’clock. 

“It’s not even eight yet,” he told me, interrupting my thoughts. “Did you girls have fun?” 

“Yeah—it was good.” My head was spinning as I tried to remember all the way back to the girls night out I had planned. “They both found really good dresses.” 

“Are you all right?” 

His question threatened the composure I had managed to build over the past few hours. 

“I’m just tired. I did a lot of walking.” 

“Well, maybe you should go lie down.” He sounded concerned. 

“I should call Jess—I left my jacket in her car.” 

“You can text her tomorrow Bella. You look like you need some rest.” He looked like he wanted to ask me more questions, but thankfully he kept quiet. 

“Right.” I agreed. I walked up the stairs slowly, a heavy stupor clouding my mind. I went through the motions of getting ready for bed without paying any attention to what I was doing. It wasn’t until I was in the shower—the water too hot, burning my skin—that I began to cry. I scrubbed violently at my entire body, desperate to get rid of the dirty feeling that had been lingering on my skin, until I was bright red and raw. My tears and runny nose were less noticeable under the streams of water, my sobs muffled by the sounds of the shower. Eventually I lost energy, and sunk to the ground, curled up on the tiles of the shower floor. I stayed there until the hot water started to run out, the cold shocking me back into silence. 

I stumbled out, wrapping myself securely in a towel, trying to hold the heat from the water in so the aching shivers wouldn’t return. The rough fabric scraped against my sensitive skin, but the pain grounded me, keeping the tears at bay. I dressed for bed swiftly, pulling on Rosalie’s sweatshirt, and climbed under my quilt, curling into a ball, hugging myself to keep warm. A few small shudders trembled through me. 

I heard Charlie come upstairs. He knocked on my door quietly. 

“Bells?” His voice was quiet, concerned. 

“Yeah?” I called out. My voice trembled. 

He opened the door and saw me huddled in my bed. 

“Oh Bells.” He came and sat down next to me, opening his arms. I moved towards him slowly, and he wrapped me into a solid, warm embrace. 

I started to cry. 

“Come on Bells, let it out.” He murmured gently, rocking me back and forth. I shuddered as a fresh wave of tears overwhelmed me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head violently against his chest. He sighed, and started to stroke my hair. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay. Whatever you need.” 

We stayed like that for a long time, until my breathing calmed down, and the tears stopped. I drifted into unconsciousness, wrapped in warmth and the smell of Rosalie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter this week!


	11. Interrogations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have an extra chapter, as a treat.

It was very hard, in the morning, to ignore Charlie’s concerned expression. He’d stayed to see me, even though I was late; I could tell by the look on his face he didn’t want me to go to school. I brushed past him, mumbling something about talking later. I swallowed a granola bar in three bites, chased it down with milk straight from the carton, and then hurried out the door, away from his prying looks.

It was unusually foggy; the air was almost smoky with it. The mist was ice cold where it cling to the exposed skin on my face and neck. I couldn’t wait to get the heat going in my truck. Hopefully the rain would hold off until I could find Jess. It was such a thick fog that I was a few feet down the driveway before I realised there was a car in it: a silver car. 

I didn’t see where he came from, but suddenly Edward was there, pulling the door open for me. 

“Do you want to ride with me today?” He asked, uncertainty in his voice. 

“Yeah, sure,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. I didn’t know how much Rosalie had told him—but I thought, if my other theory was right, she wouldn’t need to. 

We drove through the fog-shrouded streets, feeling awkward. He broke the silence first. 

“So how was the trip to La Push?” His tone was careful. 

“Uh, good, yeah. I heard some interesting stories.” 

He hummed. “Anything you want to share?” 

I snorted. “Really smooth, Edward.” He looked embarrassed, so I took pity on him. “I may have developed a new theory. Your sister wouldn’t confirm so...?”

“Confirm what?” He really wasn’t good at lying. 

“Asshole.”

“No, seriously, say it. What?”

We glared at each other. I sighed. 

“Vampire.” 

He didn’t respond. 

I continued. “I mean, whether or not I’m right, you’re obviously not human. But you can’t be that dangerous—you’ve been attending a high school for the past couple years, and two of you have saved me from a dangerous situation now.”

“So you don’t care?” He said, gritting his teeth. 

So I was right. 

“That’s not what I said. But I _am_ curious.” 

He was suddenly resigned. “What are you curious about, Bella?”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.” 

I repeated the question I'd asked Rosalie. “And how long have you been seventeen?” 

“A couple years,” he said, smiling.

I grinned back, pleased by his honesty. By the time we drove into the school parking lot, however, his smile had faded. Something occurred to me. 

“Where’s the rest of your family?” 

“They took Rosalie’s car.” He shrugged as he parked next to the glossy red convertible with the top up. It was a beautiful car—as far as I could tell—but it just brought up memories from the night before. I looked away, panicked. 

Under the shelf of the cafeteria roof’s overhang, Jess was waiting, eyes about to bug out of their sockets. Over her arm, bless her, was my jacket. 

“Hey, Jess,” I said when we were a few feet away. “Thank for remembering.” She handed me my jacket without speaking. 

“Good morning, Jessica,” Edward said politely. 

“Er...hi.” She shifted her wide eyes to me. “I guess I’ll see you in Trig.” 

She pulled me into a tight hug, on her tiptoes to reach my shoulders. I froze, suddenly feeling penned in by warm arms, heart pounding...

“I hope you know the only logical conclusion here is that you spent the night at the Cullens’.” 

Her words brought me back to the present, and I stifled a laugh, knowing Edward could hear her every word. She let go, and walked away, pausing twice to peek back over her shoulder at us. 

“She’ll be waiting to ambush you in class.” 

That reminded me of another question I had. I turned to him as we began to walk into school. “I got that, Sherlock.” 

“What are you going to tell her?” 

Nice segue away from your freaky knowledge. 

“I don’t know. Probably the truth—or close to it. There’s other stuff I want to talk to her about.” 

“Ah. Yes.” We stopped outside the door to my first class. He looked uncomfortable. “Well...I’ll see you at lunch.” Several people stopped to stare as he walked away. I tried to ignore them as I walked into class and sat down.

“Morning, Bella,” Mike said from the seat next to me. I looked up to see an odd, almost anticipatory look on his face. “How was Port Angeles?”

“It was...” there was no honest way to sum it up. “Great,” I finished lamely. “Jess got a really cute dress.” 

“Did she say anything about Monday night?” He asked, his eyes brightening. I smiled at the turn the conversation had taken. 

“She said she had a great time,” I assured him. 

“She did?”

“Most definitely.” 

Mr. Mason called the class to order then, asking us to turn our papers in. English and then Government passed in a blur, while I was worried about how to talk to Jess. 

The fog had almost dissolved by the end of the second hour, but the day was still dark with low, oppressing clouds. 

Edward was right, of course. When I walked into Trig Jess was sitting in the back row, nearly bouncing off her seat in agitation. I went to sit by her, convincing myself it would be better to get it over with as soon as possible. 

“Tell me everything!” She commanded before I was in my seat. 

“What do you want to know?” I hedged. 

“What happened last night?” 

“She bought me dinner, and then she drove me home.” Coward. 

She narrowed her eyes, expression stiff with skepticism. “But why did Edward drive you to school then?” 

Because he’s a nosy asshole. “I mentioned to Rosalie that my truck was acting up—I guess she told him to swing by and pick me up?” 

Her lips puckered in playful disappointment at the transparent honesty in my voice. 

“Bellaaaa,” she whined. “You’ve got to work with me here. How can I set you guys up when you won’t give me details?” 

I laughed. “Well...okay, I’ve got one. She lent me her sweatshirt because I was cold.” 

She squealed. “Very nineteen-fifties of her, I approve. What did you talk about?” 

“Lots of stuff—she’s really nice when she gets talking. Nowhere near as intimidating.”

“Sounds like you really like her.” Jess tried, and failed, to keep the smug look off her face. 

“We don’t really know each other yet Jess.” 

Thankfully, Mr. Barber called on her before she could interrogate me any more. Like Edward, lying was not my strong suit. 

She didn’t get a chance to start on the subject again during class, and as soon as the bell rang, I took evasive action. 

“In English, Mike asked me if you said anything about Monday night,” I told her. 

“You’re kidding! What did you say?!” She gasped, completely sidetracked. 

“I told him you said you had a lot of fun—he looked pleased.” 

“Bella, don't be mean, tell me exactly what he said, and your exact answer!” 

We spent the rest of the walk dissecting sentence structures and most of Spanish on a minute description of Mike’s facial expressions. 

And then the bell rang for lunch. As I jumped out of my seat, shoving my books roughly in my bag, my anxious expression must have tipped Jess off. 

“You’re not sitting with us today, are you?” 

“I don’t _think_ so.” I couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t disappear inconveniently again. 

She winked. “Good job getting the family on your side before you make a move.” 

I slapped her arm lightly, laughing. 

Outside the door to our Spanish class, leaning against the wall, Edward was waiting for me. Jess took one look, rolled her eyes, and departed. 

“See you later, Bella.” 

As she walked away I turned to Edward. He looked like he was stifling a laugh. He had been listening. Great. 

I couldn’t think of anything to say, and he didn’t speak—biding his time I presumed—so it was a quiet walk to the cafeteria. Walking with Edward was a lot like my first day here; everybody stared. 

He led the way into line, still not speaking. I fidgeted nervously with the zipper on my jacket. 

He stepped up to the counter and filled a tray with food. 

“What are you doing?” I objected. “You’re not getting all the for me?”

He shook is head, stepping forward to buy the food. 

“Half is for me, of course.” 

I raised one eyebrow. 

He led the way to the same place we’d sat that one time before. Alice was already there, looking like she was about to jump out of her seat with excitement. From the other end of the long table, a group of seniors gazed at us in amazement as I sat down with them. The other two seemed oblivious. 

“Take whatever you want,” Edward said, pushing the tray towards me. 

“I’m curious,” I said as I picked up an apple, turning it around in my hands, “if—hypothetically of course—someone could know what people are thinking, read minds, you know...with a few exceptions.”

“Just one exception!” Alice interjected, ignoring Edward’s glare. “Hypothetically.” 

“Alright, with one exception, then. How does that work? What are the limitations? And, hypothetically, can their family do it? Is it a unique talent?” 

Edward sighed. “It depends. The closer I am with someone—or the more I’ve heard their mind—the further away I can go.” 

“God, Edward, this is hypothetical,” Alice said gleefully. She turned to me. “Hypothetically their family can’t do it. But they’ve got other talents. Seeing the future is the best one.” 

I heard a tray slam down on the other side of the cafeteria. Everyone turned, attention drawn by the noise, to see Rosalie stalking out of the door, closely followed by Emmet. Jasper sat for a moment by himself, before walking after them, a resigned look on his face. 

Alice sighed. “She’s so sensitive.” 

They both turned back to me. I was about to ask about their diet, but Alice spoke again. 

“We eat animals. We’re kind of vegetarians in that sense.” 

I frowned. Oh. Right. Seeing the future. 

“That’s why I was in Goat Rocks last weekend...Lots of bears in that area.” Edward added. 

“Bears?” I gasped, and he smirked. “You know, bears are not in season,” I added sternly to hide my shock. 

“If you read carefully, the laws only cover hunting with weapons.” He informed me. 

“Grizzly is Emmet’s favourite.” Alice’s voice was offhand, but her eyes were scrutinising my expression. 

“Oh yes, of course.” I said, dryly. “As we all know, grizzly is the tastiest bear.” 

She laughed. “That's the spirit.” 

There was a pause, and I took a bite of apple. Alice turned to look at Edward, and seemed to be trying to communicate some—oh yeah. Woops. She was probably just thinking at him. He sighed. 

“I have another question for you.” He looked like he really wanted to roll his eyes. 

I pointed finger-guns at his chest. “Shoot” 

“Do you really need to go to Seattle this Saturday, or was that just an excuse to get out of saying no to all your admirers?” 

I made a face at the memory. “You know, I haven’t forgiven you for the Tyler thing yet.” I warned him. “It’s your fault he’s acting like such an asshole.” 

“Oh, he would have found a chance to ask you without me—I just really wanted to watch your face.” He chuckled, oblivious to my anger.

Alice decided to intervene. “Would you mind not going to Seattle?” 

“I’m open to alternatives,” I allowed. “But I do have a favour to ask.” 

She beamed. “Of course you can drive.”

Edward looked confused. “No, wait, why do you want to drive?”

“Because your driving is terrifying.” 

“You _need_ a healthy dose of fear!” He argued. “You’ve got no survival instincts!” 

“What do you know about my instincts?” 

“You’re sitting with us! That’s possibly the most dangerous thing you could be doing!” 

“Alright, edgelord,” Alice's voice cut through before I could speak. “We’re going to be late.” 

I glanced around, startled to see that she was right, and the cafeteria was nearly vacant. I jumped up, grabbing my bag from the back of my chair. 

I still had more questions. They weren't getting away from me that easily.


	12. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sure there are plenty of mistakes in this, I churned it out in about two hours this morning so it could be out today. We love a healthy posting schedule.

Everyone watched us as me and Edward walked together to our lab table. I noticed that he no longer angled the chair to sit as far away from me as possible. He maintained a respectable distance however, still further away than most of our classmates. 

Mr Banner backed into the room then, pulling a tall metal frame on wheels that held a heavy-looking, outdated TV and VCR. A movie day—the lift in the class atmosphere was almost tangible. 

Mr. Banner shoved the tape into the reluctant VCR and walked to the wall to turn off the lights. 

The opening credits began, and it looked like it was an old David Attenborough documentary. It was probably only vaguely related to the course, but Mr. Banner was dead on his feet; he didn’t look in any condition to be planning lessons. Poor guy. I grimaced sympathetically as he slumped down in his chair. 

I couldn’t concentrate on the movie—I didn’t even know what subject it was on. I was falling asleep myself. Even though I’d been out cold last night, it hadn’t been a restful sleep. 

Edward occasionally poked me to ensure I was staying fully awake. I tried to glare at him, but I could quite make out where his face was in the darkness, which ruined the effect. 

I breathed a sigh of relief when Mr. Banner flicked the lights back on at the end of class, and stretched my arms out in front of me, flexing my stiff fingers. Edward chuckled beside me. 

“I’m glad to see you’re so invested in your education Bella.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t have the best nights sleep.” I snapped back. He blinked, and his expression immediately turned contrite. 

“Yes, of course. My apologies.” His voice was oddly formal. I wondered idly if that was due to his age, or if he just spoke like that—Alice and Rose seemed to have no such issue. 

He walked me to Gym in silence and paused at the door. I turned to say goodbye, but his face startled me—his expression was heartbreakingly guilty. My goodbye stuck in my throat. 

He nodded, quickly, and turned without a word to walk away. 

I walked into the gym, confused. I drifted to the locker room, only vaguely aware that there were other people surrounding me. Reality didn’t fully set in until I was handed a racket. It wasn’t heavy, yet it felt very unsafe in my hand. I could already see a few of the other kids eyeing me furtively. Coach Clapp ordered us to pair up into teams. 

Mercifully, Mike came to stand beside me. 

“Do you want to be a team?” 

“Thanks, Mike—you don’t have to do this, you know.” I grimaced apologetically. 

He grinned. “While it is a great trial to have a front row seat to your embarrassment, I must maintain my direct line to Jess gossip. You are my inside source.” 

“Oh you _asshole_! Enjoying my pain isn’t going to make me talk! I’ll just tell Jess your an asshole!” He laughed as we made our way to the court. 

It didn’t go smoothly. I somehow managed to hit myself in the head with my racket and clip Mike’s shoulder on the same swing. I spent the rest of the hour in the back corner of the court, the racket held safely behind my back. Despite being handicapped by me, Mike was pretty good; he won three games out of four singlehandedly. He gave me and unearned high five when the coach finally blew the whistle ending class. 

“So,” He said as we walked off the course. 

“So what?” 

“I hear you’re getting pretty close to Rosalie Cullen?” He was desperately trying to maintain a straight face. 

“Oh my god. What has Jess been saying?” I groaned theatrically. 

“Not much, you know, normal stuff—she’s picked out her maid of honour dress, been planning her toast as the official matchmaker.” I could hear the grin in his voice. 

“Kill me.”

He let out a laugh. “You gotta admit it’s funny. At least it’s not Edward—he straight up looks at you like you’re something to _eat_.” 

I choked back the hysteria that threatened to explode, but a small giggle managed to get out despite my efforts. “It’s because I’m a snack, Mike. Don’t be jealous.” 

He hit me with his racket. I fled to the locker room, shrieking. 

I dressed quickly, wondering how I’d be getting home. Would Edward be waiting, or should I meet him at his car? What if his family was there? What if they asked me about last night? I felt a wave of real terror. Even Rosalie knowing was a struggle. 

By the time I walked out of the gym, I had just about decided to walk straight home without even looking toward the parking lot. But my worries were unnecessary. Edward was waiting, leaning casually against the side of the gym. I flinched as I rounded the corner, momentarily scared by the dark figure waiting for me.

“Hello.” He smiled, kindly ignoring my reaction. “How was Gym?” 

“Fine.” 

He was unconvinced. His eyes shifted their focus slightly, looking over my shoulder and narrowing. I glanced to see Mike’s back as he walked away. 

“What?” I demanded. 

“How your head?” He asked innocently. 

I flushed, and started to move in the general direction of the parking lot, though I hadn’t ruled out walking at this point. 

He kept up with me easily, and we walked in silence to his car. But I had to stop a few steps away—a crowd of people, all boys, were surrounding it. As I got closer though, I realised they weren’t surrounding the Volvo, they were actually circled around Rosalie’s red convertible, unmistakeable lust in their eyes. None of them even looked up as Edward slid between them to open his door. I climbed in the passenger side, also unnoticed. 

“Ostentatious,” he muttered. 

”Its just a car,” I said, feeling like I ought to defend it. “What’s the problem?” 

”We're supposed to remain inconspicuous. That car is anything but.” 

”No offence, _buddy_ ,” I spat out the word. “You’re not very good at staying unnoticeable yourself.” 

He didn’t respond, but he had the good grace to look a little chastised. 

He carefully manoeuvred the car out of the lot, trying to leave without running over any car enthusiasts. I remained quiet, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Are you still angry?” He asked after a minute. 

“Definitely.” 

He sighed. “Will you forgive me if I give you a few more questions?” 

“Maybe...depends what they are.” Too many years of friendship with Blair prevented me from blindly agreeing to his suggestion. 

“Ask and I’ll see if I want to answer.”

“Okay. Fine.” I paused, thinking. “Why can you go out in the day?”

His response was immediate. “Myth.” 

“Sunlight burns you?”

“Myth.” 

“Sleeping in coffins.”

“Myth.”

His rapid fire answers encouraged me to move into riskier territory. 

“How do you hunt?” 

“Not with weapons.” 

“Well that’s incredibly cryptic.” 

He grinned. “It’s hard to explain.” 

“Try.” 

He paused, thinking. I tapped my foot impatiently. 

“We use our nails and teeth. Very primitive of us, I know—but they’re virtually indestructible. And far more satisfying than a gun.” He stopped again. “Emmet hunts like a bear, I think. I’ve been told I’m more like a mountain lion.” 

I was about to ask him for more details, when the car pulled to a stop. I looked up, surprised—we were already at Charlie’s house, parked behind the truck. 

“Before I go, don’t bring a car on Saturday. Charlie’s concerned right now and I don’t want him thinking my change of plans is the result of anything serious. He doesn’t need to worry about me.”

He nodded. “I’ll be on your doorstep bright and early Saturday morning—no Volvo.” 

I opened the door, and got out quickly, not wanting to spend much time in the cold. I started to move towards the front door, but the shut of the window unrolling made me turn. 

“Oh, Bella?” He called after me, his voice friendlier than before. He leaned toward the open window with a faint smile on his lips. 

“Yes?”

“Tomorrow it’s my turn.” 

“Your turn to what?” 

He smiled wider, flashing his gleaming teeth. “Ask the questions.” 

And then he was gone, the car speeding down the street and disappearing around the corner before I could even collect my thoughts. 

*

That night I tossed and turned restlessly, waking often, panting and sweating, my mind filled with memories of hot hands on my body. It was only in the early hours of the morning that I finally sank into an exhausted, dreamless sleep. 

When I woke I was still tired, but on edge as well. I pulled on my black turtleneck and jeans, sighing as I daydreamed of sunny skies and T-shirt’s. Breakfast was the usual, quiet event I expected, but Charlie did keep eyeing me over his eggs. I wondered if he had forgotten about this Saturday. He answered my unspoken question as he stood up to take his plate to the sink. 

“About this Saturday...” he began, walking across the kitchen and turning on the faucet. 

I cringed silently. “Yes, Dad?” 

“Are you still set on going to Seattle?” 

“That was the plan.” I knew if I told him I wasn’t going, it would unlock the floodgates. Showing hesitation about visiting a major city was not the way to convince him that I was fine. 

He squeezed some dish soap onto his plate and swirled it around with the brush. “And you’re sure you can’t make it back in time for the dance?” 

“I’m not going to the dance, Dad.” I said, trying to keep the impatience out of my tone. 

“Do you not have anyone to go with?” He asked, trying to hide his concern by focusing on rinsing the plate. “Did you feel uncomfortable _asking_ anyone to go with you? I can talk to the school if people are—“

“It’s fine, Dad.” I interrupted.

I sympathised with him. It must be a hard thing, to be a father, living in fear that your daughter was being rejected by her peers for something she couldn’t control. 

Charlie left then, with a quick goodbye hug, and I went upstairs to brush my teeth and gather my books. When I heard the cruiser pull away, I only waited a few second before I glanced out my window. The silver car was already there, waiting in Charlie’s spot in the driveway. 

He waited in the car, not appearing to watch as I shut the door behind me without bothering to lock the deadbolt. I walked to the car, pausing shyly before opening the door and stepping in. 

“Good morning. How are you today?” His eyes roamed over my face, as if his question was more than simple courtesy. It was a bit unnerving, the focus on his face. I shifted, not sure how to respond to the second concerned analysis of the day. 

“Good, thank you.” 

His gaze lingered on the circles under my eyes. “You look tired.” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” I confessed.

“Neither could I,” he teased as he started the engine. I was becoming used to the quiet purr. I was sure the roar of my truck would scare me, whenever I got to drive it again. Although, at this rate, I’d never use it again.

I laughed. “I guess that’s right. I suppose I slept just a little bit more than you did.”

“I’d wager you did.”

“So, what did you you do last night?” I asked. 

He chuckled. “Not a chance. It’s my day to ask question.” 

“Oh, that’s right. What do you want to know?”

“What’s your favourite colour?” He asked, his face grave. 

I rolled my eyes. “It changes from day to day.”

“What’s your favourite colour today?” He was still solemn. 

“Probably yellow.”

He snorted, dropping his serious expression. “Yellow?” He asked sceptically. 

“Sure. Yellow is warm. I _miss_ yellow. I miss waking up to golden sunlight and cream coloured stone buildings. Here, everything that’s supposed to be yellow isn’t,” I complained. 

He seemed fascinated by my little rant. 

“You’re right,” he said, serious again. “Yellow is warm.” 

We were at school by now. He turned back to me as he pulled into a parking space. 

“What music is in your CD player right now?” He asked, his face somber as if he’d asked for a murder confession. 

I realised I’d never removed the CD Phil had given me. “Oh it’s some English band—Hey Colossus, I think they’re called.”

“Sounds quite different to Debussy,” he raised an eyebrow. 

It continued like that for the rest of the day. While he walked me to English, when he met me after Spanish, and all through lunch (joined by Alice) he questioned me relentlessly about every insignificant detail of my existence. Movies I’d liked and hated, the few places I’d been and the many places I wanted to go, and books—endlessly books. 

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d talked to much. More often than not, I felt self-conscious, certain he would criticise my likes and dislikes. But his never-ending stream of questions compelled me to continue. It seemed like he was going through some mental list of ‘get to know you’ questions for icebreakers. As it continued, though, I got more and more frustrated. I was already tired, and the interrogation wasn't helping my mood.

Gym passed quickly today, as I watched Mike’s one man badminton show. He kept badgering me for information about Jess in between games, but I refused, citing girl code. That merely triggered more racket abuse. 

Edward’s questions after school were different, not as easily answered. He wanted to know what I missed about home, insisting in descriptions of anything he wasn’t familiar with. We sat in front of Charlie’s house for hours, as the sky darkened and rain plummeted around us in a sudden deluge. 

I tried to describe impossible things like the scent of creosote—bitter, slightly resinous, but still pleasant—the high, keening sound of the cicadas in July, the feathery barrenness of the trees, the very size of the sky, extending white-blue from horizon to horizons barely interrupted by the low mountains covered with purple volcanic rock. The hardest thing to explain was why it was so beautiful to me—to justify as beauty that didn’t depend on the sparse, spiny vegetation that often looked half dead, a beauty that had more to do with the exposed shape of the land, with the shallow bowls of valleys between the craggy hills, and the way they held onto the sun. I found myself using my hands as I tried to describe it to him. 

His constant questioning kept me talking forgetting, in the dim light of the storm, to be embarrassed for monopolising the conversation. Finally, when I had finished detailing my cluttered room at home, he paused instead of responding with another question. 

“Are you finished?” I asked in relief. 

“Not even close—but your father will be home soon.” 

“Charlie!” I suddenly recalled his existence, and sighed. I looked out at the rain-darkened sky, but it gave nothing away. “How late is it?” I wondered or loud as I glanced at the clock. I was surprised by the time—Charlie would be driving home by now. 

“It’s dusk.” Edward murmured, looking at the western horizon, obscured as it was with clouds. His voice was thoughtful, as if his mind was somewhere far away. I stared at him as he gazed unseeingly out the windshield. 

I was still staring when his eyes suddenly shifted back to mine. 

“It’s the safest time of day for us.” He said. “The easiest time. But also the saddest, in a way...the end of another day, the return of the night. Darkness is so predictable, don’t you think?” He smiled wistfully. 

I laughed nervously. The intense despondency in his tone reminded me of how he’d looked yesterday outside Gym. 

He seemed to sense my anxiety, and changed the subject. “Charlie will be here in a few minutes. So, unless you want to tell him that you’ll be with me Saturday...?” He raised one eyebrow. 

“Thanks, but no thanks.” I gathered my books, stretching when I realised I was stiff from sitting so long. “Is it my turn again tomorrow?” 

“Certainly not!” His face was teasingly outraged. “I told you I wasn’t done, didn’t I?” 

“What more is there?” I asked, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.

“You’ll find out tomorrow.” He reaches across to open my door for me, but his hand froze on the handle. 

“Not good.” He muttered. 

“What is it?” I was surprised to see that his jaw was clenched, his eyes disturbed. 

He glanced at me for a brief second. “Another complication,” he said glumly. 

He found the door open in one swift movement, and then moved, almost cringed, swiftly away from me. 

The flash of headlights through the rain caught my attention as a dark car pulled up to the curb just a few feet away, facing us. 

“Charlie’s around the corner,” he warned, staring through the downpour at the other vehicle. 

I hopped out at once, despite my confusion and curiosity. The rain was louder as it glance off my jacket. 

I tried to make out the shapes in the front seat of the other car, but it was too dark. I could see Edward illuminated in the glare of the new cars headlights; he was still staring ahead, his gaze locked on something or someone I couldn’t see. His expression was a strange mix of frustration and defiance. 

The he revved the engine, and the tires squealed against the wet pavement. The Volvo was out of sight in seconds. 

“Hey, Bella,” called a familiar, husky voice from the drivers side of the little black car. 

“Jacob?” I asked, squinting through the rain. Just then, Charlie’s cruiser swung around the corner, his lights shining on the occupants of the car in front of me. 

Jacob was already climbing out, his wide grin visible even through the darkness. In the passenger seat was a much older man, heavyset with a memorable face—a face that overflowed, the cheeks resting against his shoulders, with creases rubbing through the russet skin like an old leather jacket. And the surprisingly familiar eyes, black eyes that seemed at the same time both too young and too ancient for the broad face they were set in. Jacob’s father, Billy Black. I knew him immediately, through in the more than five years since I’d seen him last I’d managed to forget him name when Charlie had spoken of him my first day here. He was staring at me, scrutinising my face, so I smiled tentatively at him. His eyes were wide, as if in shock or fear, his nostrils flared. My smile faded. 

Another complication, Edward has said. 

Billy still stared at me with intense, anxious eyes. I groaned internally. Had Billy recognised Edward so easily? Could he really believe the impossible legends his son had scoffed at? 

The answer was clear in Billy’s eyes. Yes. Yes, he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of times I want Bella to call Edward a nonce, twat or wanker, but then realise this is all set in America, is tragic.


	13. Testimonies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yall need to chill. Bella and Rose haven’t spoken in two days. They don’t have classes together, and Rose doesn’t want to interact with the humans. Let me live!
> 
> Edit:maybe.... i need to chill?

“Billy!” Charlie called as soon as he got out of the car. 

I turned toward the house, beckoning to Jacob as I ducked under the porch. I heard Charlie greeting them loudly behind me. 

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you behind the wheel, Jake,” he said disapprovingly. 

“We get permits early on the rez,” Jacob said while I unlocked the door and flicked on the porch light. 

“Sure you do,” Charlie laughed.

“I have to get around somehow.” I recognised Billy’s resonant voice easily, despite the years. The sound of it made me feel suddenly younger, a child. 

I went inside, leaving the door open behind me and turning on lights before I hung up my jacket. Then I stood in the door, watching anxiously as Charlie and Jacob helped Billy out of the car and into his wheelchair. 

I backed out of the way as three of them hurried in, shaking off the rain. 

“This is a surprise,” Charlie was saying. 

“It’s been too long,” Billy answered. “I hope it’s not a bad time.” His eyes flashed up to me again, their expression unreadable. 

“Not, it’s great. I hope you can stay for the game.” 

Jacob grinned. “I think that’s the plan—our TV broke last week.” 

Billy made a face at his son. “And, of course, Jacob was anxious to see Bella again.” Jacob laughed and nodded in agreement. 

“Are you hungry?” I asked, turning toward the kitchen. I was eager to escape Billy’s searching gaze. 

“Nah, we ate just before we came,” Jacob answered. 

“How about you, Charlie?” I called over my shoulder as I fled around the corner. 

“Sure,” he replied, his voice moving in the direction of the front room and the TV. I could hear Billy’s chair follow. 

The grilled cheese sandwiches were in the frying pan and I was slicing up a tomato when I sensed someone behind me. 

“So, how are things?” Jacob asked. 

“Pretty good.” I smiled. His enthusiasm was hard to resist. “How about you? Did you finish your car?”

“No.” He frowned. “I still need parts. We borrowed that one.” He pointed with his thumb in the direction of the front yard. 

“Sorry. I haven’t seen any... what was it you were looking for?” I suddenly wished Rosalie was here to talk cars for me. I was nowhere near equipped to hold a conversation about missing parts; I didn’t even know how to change a tire.

“Master cylinder.” He grinned. “Is something wrong with the truck?” He asked suddenly.

“No.” I replied, confused by his question. 

“Oh. I just wondered because you weren’t driving it.” 

I stared down at the pan, pulling up the edge of a sandwich to check how the bottom side was cooking. “I got a ride with a friend.” 

“Nice ride.” Jacob’s voice was admiring. “I didn’t recognise the driver though. I thought I knew most of the kids around here.” 

I nodded noncommittally, keeping my eyes down as I flipped the sandwiches. “Could you hand me some plates? They’re in the cupboard over the sink.” 

“Sure.” 

He got the plates in silence. “So who was it?” He asked, setting two plates on the counter next to me. 

“Edward Cullen.” I answered reluctantly. 

To my surprise, he laughed. I glanced up at him. He looked a little embarrassed. 

“Guess that explains it, then,” he said. “I wondered why my dad was acting so strange.” 

“That’s right.” I faked an innocent expression. “He doesn’t like the Cullens.” 

“Superstitious old man,” Jacob muttered under his breath. 

I stayed in the front room after I carried the food out to Charlie, pretending to watch the game while Jacob chattered at me. I had a lot of homework that was going undone, but Jacob was so entertaining I didn’t want to go upstairs. 

Eventually, the game ended, and I heard Billy and Charlie wandered into the hall. Me and Jacob walked out to join them.

“Are you and your friends coming back to the beach soon?” Jacob asked as he pushed his father over the lip of the threshold. 

“I’m not sure,” I hedged. “But I’ll try to make it down by myself soon.” 

“This was fun, Charlie.” Billy said. 

“Come up for the next game,” Charlie encouraged. 

“Sure, sure,” Billy said. “Well be here. Have a good night.” His eyes shifted to mine, and his smile disappeared. “You take care, Bella,” he added seriously. 

“Thanks,” I muttered, looking away. 

I headed for the stairs while Charlie waved from the doorway. 

“Wait, Bella,” He said. 

I cringed. Here it comes. 

“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you tonight. How was your day?” 

“Good.” I hesitated with one foot on the first stair. “My badminton team won all four games.” 

“Wow, I didn’t know you could play badminton.” 

“Well, actually I can’t, but my partner is really good,” I admitted. 

“Who is it?” He asked with token interest. 

“Mike Newton?” 

“Oh yeah—nice family.” He mused for a minute. I started to move up the stairs, but Charlie spoke again, stopping me. “Bella. Do you think we can talk about Port Angeles?” 

I sighed. “It’s fine Dad. Nothing really happened.” 

He stared at me. “Sweetheart, you cried yourself to sleep. What happened?” 

“Dad, seriously, it’s fine. I just went by myself to get a book while Jess and Angela went ahead to the restaurant. A couple guys were following me, but I got away. I was freaked out, that’s all.” I could feel tears forming. I couldn’t tell Charlie what had happened. It would kill him to know there was nothing he could do. 

He still looked suspicious. “And that’s it? Honestly?” 

“They got a bit closer than I liked... I could hear what they were joking about.” The tears started to overflow. 

“Oh, Bells.” He moved towards me, arms out. “I’m sorry. Did you have your pepper spray?” 

I let him hug me, trying to repress the disgust rising in me at being trapped by warm arms. “No. I left it at home.” 

I felt him sigh. “Okay. I’m going to teach you some self defence soon, alright? You should carry the pepper spray, but I know you won’t always be able to use it.” 

“Okay Dad.” I pulled away, rubbing at my eyes. 

“I was going to go fishing with some guys from the station this weekend. The weather’s supposed to be real warm. But if you want to put off your trip to Seattle until someone could go with you, I’d stay home. I know I leave you here alone too much.” 

“Dad, you’re doing a great job.” I smiled weakly. “I’ve never minded being alone—I’m too much like you.” I winked at him, and he smiled his crinkly eyed smile. 

*

I slept better that night, too tired to dream again. When I woke to the pearl grey morning, my mood was blissful. The tense evening with Billy and Jacob seemed harmless now; I decided to forget it completely. I caught myself whistling while I pulled my hair up, and later again as I skipped downstairs for breakfast. Charlie noticed. 

“You feeing better today Bells?” He asked over breakfast. 

I shrugged. “It’s Friday.” 

I was ready early, but realised when Charlie left that Edward would probably be back today. That meant more questions. I put off going outside, not wanting to see the Volvo. When I finally glanced outside, I breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of silver. 

Then I did a double take at the splash of red. 

I hurried outside, confused by the sight of Rosalie’s car. When I got to the window, she rolled it down, and leaned out. 

“You’re coming with me today.” I didn’t think I was imagining the frustration in her voice. 

“Oh...okay.” I paused, blushing. “Um. I can go get your sweatshirt? I forgot to find you at school.” 

“Fine.” 

I rushed back inside, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sweatshirt was lying on my bed, next to my pillow; I grabbed it, and sniffed it quickly. I didn’t know if she’d be able to tell that I’d slept in it. I hoped not.

When I got back outside, I half-ran to the car and climbed in the passenger side quickly. I held the sweatshirt out to her, but she gestured towards the backseat. 

“Just throw it back there.” 

I did as she said. Neither of us spoke as she started the engine and pulled out onto the road. 

I broke the silence. “Um...why are you driving me today?” 

She didn’t look at me, golden eyes fixed on the road ahead. “It’s me or Marlowe.” I hummed questioningly. “Figured you would want a break from the constant interrogation. This is the only way he’d leave you alone.” 

I didn’t really understand what she meant, but I got the sentiment. “Thanks.” 

Her smile was bitter. “No problem.” 

Neither of us spoke again until she’d pulled into the parking lot. Rosalie looked over at me, her beautiful face expressionless, but her eyes betrayed her concern. 

“Have you talked to your friends about it?” 

I didn’t need to ask what ‘it’ was. 

I shook my head. “I told my dad a little bit of it. Just that I was followed.” 

She made a disapproving noise. “Talk to them at lunch. Edward’s leaving with Alice then, so you’ll be able to spend it with Jess.” 

“Okay.” 

We both stepped out of the car and headed towards the school buildings. There was a pause, both of us unsure about how to say goodbye. After a moment, she gave me an awkward pat on the shoulder, and stalked off in the direction of the cafeteria. I began walking towards my first lesson, when Jess intercepted me. 

“Bella. Please tell me you have an interesting reason for driving in with Rosalie? Preferably one to do with sexy times.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. 

I laughed. “Believe me Jess, I’m not going to be engaging in ‘sexy times’—“ I made air quotes with my hands “—with Rosalie Hale anytime soon.” 

Jess frowned. “You’re letting me down Bella. How can I say I set you guys up if you don’t actually date?” 

“Set me up with someone else. Or, leave me alone.” 

She stuck her tongue out. “You know that’s not an option.” 

“With all this time dedicated to my love life, it’s a wonder you’ve got any time for Mike.” 

Her face lit up. “Oh my god, I’m so excited for the dance!” As we walked to our classes, she filled me in on their plan to go to a diner beforehand, just the two of them, then meet up with the rest of our friends. 

The rest of the day went by quickly, and before I knew it I was in the cafeteria, waiting for food. Rosalie’s reminder was the only thing on my mind. Once I’d filled my tray, I walked over to the usual table, and nudged Jess. 

“Hey, uh... do you think we could go somewhere to talk?” 

She looked up at me, concerned. “Yeah, of course, Bella.” 

As we moved towards an empty table, I saw Lauren rolling her eyes. My hands clenched on my tray. 

Before we’d even sat down properly, Jess launched into a speech. 

“Bella, I’m so sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable with the Rosalie thing, I just got really excited that you actually interact with the Cullens so I thought you’d have a shot and—“ 

I interrupted her, laughing awkwardly, very aware that Rosalie could hear this conversation. I hoped she wouldn’t look over and see the blush on my face. “No, Jess, it’s fine. That’s not what this is about.” 

She looked at me, dark eyes wide and remorseful. Her lip trembled slightly. 

“Are you sure? Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah I’m sure. It’s just about Port Angeles. Rosalie told me I should talk to you about it.” I saw the excitement on her face. “It’s not about me and her.” 

Her face fell. “Oh. Okay.” 

“Well, uh... I’m not sure where to begin.” 

She nodded, waiting for me to collect my thoughts. 

“Okay, so. I got lost on the way to the restaurant, I told you that. Well, between the bookshop and meeting Rosalie, something else happened.” 

Jess’ expression became serious, sensing the tone of my voice. 

“Some guys had followed me... I guess herded is the better word. I didn’t know where I was going, and I ended up trapped with them in a street.” My voice broke. Jess reached out to rub my hands. 

“Go on.” She said, keeping her voice quiet. 

“Well, uh. They got...close. Very close. One of them had me pinned.” My eyes were watering again. “The others were laughing.”

Jess flinched, but she kept holding my hands.

“It was pretty clear what was happening. But uh, Rosalie? She found me. That part is true. Just in time really. Beat the shit out of them. She helped me get cleaned up, then drove me to meet you guys.” 

I stopped talking, trying to blink the tears away. Jess moved around the table, and pulled me into a hug. 

“I’m so sorry, Bella. Thank you for telling me.” She murmured, gently rocking me like Charlie did. “Thank god Rosalie was there.” 

I nodded into her hair. 

“I told you she would be a great girlfriend.” 

I barked a watery laugh, and pulled away. “Thanks, Jess.” 

She nodded, and patted my hands again. “You don’t need to go to class this afternoon you know. Mike would cover for you.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’d make sure Mike would cover for you.”

“Thanks, but I think I’d rather be in school than at home by myself.” I gave her a weak smile. 

“Of course.” 

“Please don’t tell anyone? Nothing actually happened, and I don’t want people being weird about it.”

“That goes without saying—but Bella? Just because you weren’t actually raped—“ I flinched at the word. “—doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel upset. You were still violated.” 

I hummed noncommittally. She poked me. 

“Bella, I’m serious. What happened was fucked up. No one is going to judge you for being upset.” 

I stayed silent, and she glared at me. 

“Bella.” 

I nodded reluctantly. She sighed. 

“Okay. Good.” She passed me a cookie from her tray. “We’re going to be late if we don’t go soon. Eat this.” 

I looked around, noticing the startlingly empty cafeteria. The bell hadn’t gone, but from the look of the clock it wouldn’t be long. I ate the cookie obediently, staying quiet. 

When the bell rang, I dutifully went to class. I couldn’t honestly say what happened in Biology. In Gym, Mike was speaking to me again; he wished me a good time in Seattle. I carefully explained that I’d cancelled my trip, worried about my truck. 

“What are you doing then?” He asked. 

“Laundry, and then I have to struggle for the Trig test or I’m going to fail.” 

“Oh. You know you can come to the dance with our group? We’d all dance with you,” he promised. 

I smiled. “I’m not going to the dance, Mike. I’ve really got to do the work—besides, do you really think me dancing is the best idea?” 

He laughed. “Fair enough. We’ll miss you though.” 

When the school day finally ended, I walked to the parking lot without enthusiasm. I’d probably have to walk home, if the Cullens were gone. I was about to start the walk, when Jess called me over. 

“Do you need a lift Bella?”

“It’s fine Jess, it’s only a short walk and it’s out of your way.”

She smiled. “It’s no problem, come on.” 

Jess kept up a constant stream of chatter in the car, not letting me soak in my thoughts. I smiled gratefully at her when we reached my house, leaning over to give her a hug. 

“Thank Jess.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Remember to eat some cookies.” 

I laughed and waved goodbye. 

Charlie was absentminded at dinner, worried over something at work, I guessed, or maybe a basketball game. Maybe he was just really enjoying the lasagna—it was hard to tell with Charlie. 

“You know, Dad...,” I began, breaking into his reverie. 

“What’s that, Bell?” 

“I think you’re right about Seattle. I think I’ll wait until Jessica or someone else can go with me.” 

“Oh,” He said, surprised. “Oh, okay. So, do you want me to stay home?” 

“No, Dad, don’t change your plans. I’ve got a million things to do... homework, laundry...I need to go to the library and the grocery store. I’ll be in and out all day...you go and have fun.” 

“Are you sure?” The concern in his voice was obvious. 

“Absolutely, Dad. Besides, the freezer is getting dangerously low on fish—we’re down to a two, maybe three years supply.” 

He laughed. “I better get a move on then.” 

After dinner, I folded clothes and moved another load through the dryer. Unfortunately it was the kind of job that only keeps hands busy. Rosalie had been right; talking to Charlie and Jess had helped my feel safer, but it also made everything seem much more real. 

I was relieved when it was late enough to be acceptable for bedtime. I knew I was far too stressed to sleep, so I took cold medicine—the kind that knocked me out for a good eight hours. I normally wouldn’t condone that type of behaviour in myself, but I decided I deserved a free pass. I half-wished I’d kept some of my weed from Phoenix, to help calm me down. While I waited for the drugs to kick in, I dried my clean hair until it was impeccably straight, fussing over how I could pull it out of my face. 

With everything ready for the morning, I finally lay in my bed. I felt hyper; I couldn’t stop twitching. I got up and rifles through my shoebox of CDs until I found a collection of Chopin’s nocturnes. I put that on very quietly and then lay down again, concentrating on relaxing individual parts of my body. Somewhere in the middle of that exercise, the cold pills took effect, and I gladly sank into unconsciousness. 

I woke up early, having slept soundly and dreamlessly thanks to my ‘gratuitous’ drug use. Though I was well rested, I slipped right back into the same hectic frenzy from the night before. I dressed in a rush, tucking my shirt into my jeans, fidgeting with my earrings until they started to ache. I sneaked a swift look out the window to see that Charlie was already gone. A thin, cottony layer of clouds veiled the sky. They didn’t look very lasting. 

I ate breakfast without tasting the food, anxiously anticipating Edward’s arrival. I didn’t want to deal with more questions today, and my plans had changed—my excuses to Mike and Charlie had made me realise the amount of work I had to do. 

I had just finished brushing my teeth and was heading back downstairs when a quiet knock sent my heart thudding against my ribcage. 

I dragged my feet on the way to the door. When I opened it, I saw him standing at the bottom of the steps, ready to go. 

“Hey,” I said, shuffling awkwardly.

“Good morning Bella. Are you ready to leave?” 

“Um...it turns out I’ve got a lot of work to do. Homework and chores, you know?” 

He blinked. “Oh, of course.” 

I felt a twinge of regret. “We can still hang out? If you won’t be bored.” 

“That would be lovely.” He moved towards the door, and I shifted to block his entrance. 

“One condition.” 

“Yes?” 

I grinned. “No more fucking questions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The iconic meadow scene has been moved. An executive decision was made to fix the bloody pacing.


	14. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh I think one of my irl friends has started reading this so hey dude?

Edward sat in the kitchen, looking uncomfortable. I pointedly ignored him as I covered the counter with my notes.

“Is all that for the Trig test?” He asked, breaking the silence.

I glanced over at him. “Yeah, it’s really not my best subject. I’m good with words but numbers... that’s where it goes to shit. I just can’t understand it.” I waved my hands around in explanation. 

“Ah. I see.” He paused. “Would you like my help?”

I laughed. “Well, I kinda thought that was obvious. I wasn’t inviting you in just to stare at me.”

He shifted in his seat. “Of course not. That would be ridiculous.”

We remained quiet as I reset my calculators. I’d been given a sheet of example questions to work through, but it was looking more intimidating by the second. I was in no rush to begin. I looked over at Edward again, remembering Charlie’s comments about his family, way back in my first week.

“Hey,” I said. “Edward?”

“Yes, Bella?”

“Why are you friends with me? It just seems a bit weird, given how desperate your family seems to stay away from everyone.” I tried to keep my voice light. 

He tugged on his collar. “Well, there a few reasons, I suppose.” He stopped again, but I gestured impatiently for him to continue. “You know, of course, that my family is dangerous.”

I hummed in agreement.

“I think, partially, I’m so fascinated by you because I’m more dangerous to you than anyone else.”

I thought for a moment. “I don’t think I understand what you mean.”

He looked back at me and smiled. “How do I explain?”

A moment passed as he assembled his thoughts. I opened my notepad, planning to start the first question, when he spoke again.

“You know how everyone enjoys different flavours? Some people love chocolate ice cream, others prefer strawberry?”

I nodded.

“Sorry about the food analogy—I couldn’t think of another way to explain.”

I smiled. He smiled ruefully back.

“You see, every person smells different, had a different essence. If you locked an alcoholic in a room full of stale beer, he’d gladly drink it. But he could resist, if he wished to, if he was a recovering alcoholic. Now let’s say you placed in that room a glass of hundred-year-old brandy, the rarest, finest cognac—and filled the room with its warm aroma—how do you think he would fare then?”

I didn’t reply, choosing to twirl my pencil instead. Despite Blair’s best efforts, I didn’t have much experience with alcohol.

“Maybe that’s not the right comparison. Maybe it would be too easy to turn down the brandy. Perhaps I should have made our alcoholic a heroine addict instead.”

I shifted, trying to ignore the sudden pit in my stomach. “So what you’re saying is, I’m your brand of heroin?”

“Yes, you are _exactly_ my brand of heroin.” I could hear laughter in his voice. 

“Does that happen often?” I asked.

He looked down at his hands.

“I spoke to my brothers about it. To Jasper, every one of you is the same. He’s the most recent to join our family. It’s a struggle for him to abstain at all. He hasn’t had the time to grow sensitive to the differences in smell, in flavour.” He glanced swiftly at me, his expression apologetic. “Sorry.”

Years with Renée sent me rushing to assuage his guilt. “I don’t mind. Please don’t worry about offending me, or frightening me. That’s the way you think. Just explain however you can.”

He took a deep breath and gazed up at the ceiling.

“So Jasper wasn’t sure if he’d ever come across someone who was as—“ he hesitated, looking for the right word—“ _appealing_ , as you are to me. Which makes me think not. Emmet has been on the wagon longer, so to speak, and he understood what I meant. He says twice, for him, once stronger than the other.”

“What did Emmet do?” I asked.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew it was the wrong question to ask. Edward’s face grew dark, his hand clenched into a fist. He looked away. I waited, but he wasn’t going to answer.

“I guess I know,” I finally said. “But surely—if it’s as strong as you say—staying away from me would be safer? Befriending me seems like a shitty idea.” I noticed I’d moved away from him throughout the conversation.

He paused. “Yes. That’s what some of my family thinks. I did run, on that first day.”

“But why haven’t you killed me?”

“First it was the witnesses. Killing you would have revealed my family almost immediately.” He looked back at me. “But once I hadn’t—I felt responsible for your safety. Being your friend was an easy way to make sure you were safe.”

We stayed silent for a minute. I thought back to him saving me from Tyler’s car. His story seemed to ring true, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of paranoia. 

“What are the other reasons?” I said, remembering his first comment.

“Pardon?”

“What are the other reasons you’re my friend? You said there were a few.”

“Oh.” He smirked. “They’re far less dramatic—I was curious about my inability to read your thoughts.”

“Maybe I just don’t have any.” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“That was my first theory.” He smiled. “But the other reason...that’s thanks to Alice.”

He noticed my confusion, and continued. “That first day she had a vision of me killing you. But when that didn’t happen, it changed. Quite drastically, I might add.”

“Why? Am I the future president?”

Edward laughed. “Not quite. She saw you as one of us.”

I blinked. “What?”

“According to Alice, you’re destined to become part of our family.”

“Wow. Jess would be punching the air right now.”

“She’s not the only one with that particular future in mind.”

I shifted, feeling uncomfortable. When he didn’t continue, I frowned and turned my attention to the worksheet in front of me. The first problem was about identities: one of my worst topics.

“That’s why I was asking so many questions.” His voice interrupted my thoughts again. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Alice told me to get certain information, so as to make her job easier. I realise now it came off as intrusive.”

“You realise how fucked that is right?” I burst out, looking up.

“Excuse me?”

I glared at him. “I barely know you guys, and you’ve decided, what, I’m marrying in? You spent a day interrogating me in some misguided matchmaker scheme?”

He opened his mouth, presumably to defend himself, but I ploughed on. “With Jess, it’s fine. She’s my friend, alls good. You guys though? Alice has literally _seen the future_! Don’t I get a say?”

He stared at me for a second, then snorted.

“Fuck off.” I said angrily.

“No, Bella, you don’t understand,” he said, barely wheezing the words out. “That’s almost exactly what Rose said.”

I stared at him in disbelief. He kept laughing, seemingly unaware of my rage. After a moment, I stood up, reaching for my truck keys. I stormed towards the door.

“Bella!” I heard him call after me. I refused to turn around, but suddenly he was in front of me.

“Bella, I’m sorry.” Edward pleaded. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

I didn’t reply.

“I’m not used to interacting with non-family members, and I can’t read how you’re feeling. It’s difficult for me.”

I snorted disbelievingly. “Wow. How do you handle _not_ being able to read someone’s thoughts? That must be a nightmare!”

His expression turned contrite. “You’re right, I’m sorry. But please don’t leave. I did genuinely want to spend the day with you.”

“I’m getting groceries.” His face dropped, and I sighed. “Fucks sake. Fine. Come on.”

He beamed. “Thank you! Can we take my car though?”

“Why?”

He hummed. “My windows are tinted and, while I won’t die in the sun, it’s in my best interests to stay in the shadows.”

My hand was in my pocket, curled tightly around my key. I pursued my lips, deliberated, and then nodded my head.

“Okay. But I’m driving.”

“That’s not fair, I’m a much safer driver.” He pouted.

I started to step around him, heading for the Volvo. “I don’t care. I’m driving.”

I climbed into the car, not looking to see if he followed. I jammed the key into the ignition, ready to start the engine, when I heard him get in, sighing.

“I think you’re being ridiculous.” He muttered. “My driving is fine.”

I didn’t dignify that with a response as I pulled out into the road. He reached out to turn on the radio, switching it to some oldies station, and sang along obnoxiously with a song I’d never heard.

“Fifties music?” I asked sharply.

“Music in the fifties was good. Much better than the sixties, or the seventies.” He shuddered dramatically. “The eighties were bearable.”

“Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?”

He glanced over, registering my irritated tone. “I was born in Chicago in 1901. Carlisle found me in the hospital in the summer of 1918. I was seventeen, and dying of the Spanish influenza.”

The sadness in his voice distracted me from my anger. “Your parents?”

“They has already died from the disease. I was alone. That’s why he chose me. In all the chaos of the epidemic, no one would ever realise I was gone.”

Even though it had happened over a century ago, the grief in his voice was still unbearably raw. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he was staring blankly ahead, hands clenched together. I didn’t speak.

“He acted from loneliness.” Edward continued after a moment, voice slightly more composed. “That’s usually the reason behind the choice. I was the first in Carlisle’s family, though he found Esme soon after. She was very ill, and they brought her straight to the hospital morgue, though, somehow, her heart was still beating.”

“So you must be dying, then, to become...” I still felt uncomfortable saying it, even though he’d confirmed it many times over.

“No. That’s just Carlisle. He would never do that to someone who had another choice.” The respect in his voice was profound whenever he spoke of his father figure.

We’d reached the store by that point, so I pulled the car to a stop.

I got out, but with a glance at the clear sky, Edward shook his head. “I’ll stay here.”

I hummed, and shut the door.

My mind was whirling as I entered the shop. Whether Edward was aware of it or not, he’d implied that I would be dying soon: if Carlisle only turned the nearly-dead, and I was going to become one of them, it was pretty clear what my fate was. Not that I wanted to become one of them—I was still fuming over the deterministic righteousness that had apparently overcome both Edward and Alice.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I barely noticed passing through the checkouts, only becoming aware of my surroundings again as I loaded up the groceries into the car.

I clambered in. Edward was sat tapping his fingers along to get another old song. As I pulled the car into the road, he spoke.

“Carlisle brought Rosalie to our family next.” He said, apparently choosing to continue the conversation. “I didn’t realise until much later that he was hoping she would be to me what Esme was to him—he was careful with his thoughts around me.” He rolled his eyes. “But it didn’t work out, for a variety of reasons, not least her attraction to women. It was only two years later that she found Emmett. She was hunting—we were in Appalachia at the time—and found a bear about to finish him off. She carried him back to Carlisle, more than a hundred miles.”

I noticed he hadn’t mentioned the manner of Rosalie’s death. Not wanting to pry, I moved the conversation away from her.

“What about Alice and Jasper?”

“Alice and Jasper are two very rare creatures. The both developed a conscience, as we refer to it it, with no outside guidance. Jasper belonged to another...clan, a _very_ different kind of clan. He became depressed and he wandered on his own. Alice found him, and then came to find us.” He glanced at me shiftily. “She saw Carlisle and our family, and the happiness we would have together.”

I didn’t respond to that, and he had the good sense to remain quiet. We eventually got to my house, and I turned off the Volvo. I started to get out, but he put his hand on my arm. I flinched, and he withdrew quickly.

“Ah—sorry.” He said. “I was just going to offer to take in the groceries. It’s the least I can do after behaving like—excuse my language—such a complete arsehole.”

“Yeah.” I said. “It is.”

He looked down guiltily, and climbed out. I followed suit, but before I’d even closed the car door, he was in the porch with all the bags. I blinked, and walked over.

“I can take them in.” I said.

“Are you sure? I’m perfectly happy to—“

“I can do it.”

He frowned slightly, but backed off. “Well, Bella. It was nice to see you.”

I hummed noncommittally.

“I hope our plans for tomorrow are still on?” He sounded strained.

“You didn’t say what they were in the first place.”

“Ah... I was planning on bringing you to my house for the day. My family is very invested in getting to know you.”

“Because of the creepy ‘we’ve chosen your life’ thing, yeah, I got that.”

His frown deepened. “They’re nice people Bella. We’re just not the best at human social cues. Alice has lived with us for so long it’s hard to recognise how irritating her visions could be for others.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I get that Edward, but you’re still a dick.” I paused. “Swing by tomorrow and we’ll see.”

He nodded, recognising the dismissal in my tone.

“Of course, Bella.”

He walked towards his car, and I turned to unlock the door. I walked in, hauling the bags with me, and left them on the kitchen floor. I pulled out my phone and sent a text off to Blair.

_Why are skinny white boys so bad at interacting with people._

I started to pull out the shopping, organising it into the various cupboards and tins. When I was done, I glanced at my phone to see that she’d replied.

**There’s a bee?! 11:48**

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone wanna be a beta reader? You’d get chapters early, and will probably be updated on the overall plot and where it’s going before it’s published. We’re getting to more original content now and I want to make sure it’s up to scratch!
> 
> Edit: have y'all.... have y'all seen the countdown....... what if its midnight sun..... I'm losing my mind holy shit


	15. Preparation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this isn’t reaaallly plot relevant it’s mainly Charlie & Bella bonding time, plus what’s hopefully some helpful tips on self-defence. I’m not an expert, but I’ve tried to make everything pretty simple and accurate! Let me know if I made any massive mistakes in the comments!

I heard Charlie’s key turn in the door around three in the afternoon; it must have been a good day for fishing. I’d been in the kitchen since I’d got back, trying to finish the Trig revision that I’d started earlier. 

“Bella?” He called. 

“In here, Dad.” He wandered in and started to pack the fish into the already stuffed freezer. 

“How was your day?” I asked. 

“Good. The fish were biting...how about you? Did you get everything done that you wanted to?” 

“Pretty much,” I lied. “I got distracted by the weather for a bit.” 

“It is a nice day,” he agreed. 

Neither of us spoke for a minute. He continued trying to find space for the fish, and I went back to my math problems. After a moment though, I remembered his offer from the other day. 

“Hey, dad?” I asked tentatively. 

Charlie didn’t look up. “Yeah, Bells?” 

“Do you think we could do self defence this afternoon? I know I said I didn’t want to, but I think it would be nice to know.” 

“Sure, sweetheart.” He closed the freezer door and straightened up, turning to look at me. “You’ll probably need to change though.” 

I glanced down at my button up and jeans, and laughed. “Yeah, probably.”

“Meet me in the garden in twenty minutes?” 

I hummed in confirmation. 

I hadn’t brought many workout clothes with me, because I’d always ran outside; the move to rainy Forks has signalled the end of my exercise regime. Renée had smuggled some in regardless, insisting that I’d thank her for it later. Apparently exercise had been the only thing that kept her sane here. I’d scoffed at the time, but looking down at the pile of Lycra, I couldn’t help but be a little bit grateful. 

I made my way outside in a muscle T-shirt and yoga pants. I’d spent a good five minutes angrily cursing my hair, which had refused to go up into a neat ponytail. Strands that had escaped from the hair tie tickled my face and neck, stubbornly refusing my attempts to tuck them behind my ears. 

Charlie was already out there, dressed in sweatpants and a ratty hoodie. When I started to shiver, I decided that he probably had the better outfit. 

“So, Bella,” Charlie began. “It’s important that you realise these are all last resort. Generally you want to try to get away before it comes to conflict, or use something like pepper spray if they get close. I’ll get you a taser to put on your keys as well.” 

I nodded, shifting my weight back and forth in an effort to stay warm.

“Specific moves are good to know, but you also need to know how to cause the most damage. You’re going to be able to hurt someone the most with your feet and elbows. Most people’s weak spots are eyes, stomach, crotch, and the back of their knees. That’s where you’re going to want to target.” 

“What about punching?” I asked. 

“No offence, Bells, but you’re not going to be able to throw a great punch.” He paused, considering. “I guess I can tell you how, but you’ve got to remember that you’re too small to cause much damage that way.” He moved closer, and held his hand up, palm facing me. “So, to make a fist, keep your thumb on the outside of your fingers. Shorter nails will make it easier, but it’s up to you.” 

I copied him, clenching my fist. He nodded and reached out to shift my shoulders. 

“Have your dominant hand and foot back. Keep both of your arms up by your face. When you punch, step forward on your non-dominant foot, and twist your torso slightly to punch. Try to exhale as you punch, and don’t fully tense your muscles until the last second, or you’ll move slower. Speed is going to make it hurt more, so that’s what you want to capitalise on.” 

He took a few steps back, and gestured for me to have a go. I jabbed my fist out a few times, but it felt weak, and by the look on Charlie’s face, he thought the same. 

“Okay. Try to keep your knees bent, and your weight in the balls of your feet. This is a jab, so your arm should just be going out straight, don’t try to curve it round. Don’t hit with your knuckles—you want to use the flat part of your fist, between your knuckles and the first joint of your fingers. Have another go.” 

This time he nodded approvingly as I lunged forwards. It still didn’t feel quite right, but I guessed that was down to me punching mid-air. 

After a few more attempts at punching nothing, Charlie spoke again. 

“Good job, Bells. So you’re going to want to punch someone in the solar plexus—that bit in the middle of their torso, just below the ribcage. Maybe in their throat, if you can. Other things you should try, if you’re in a bad situation, are kneeing ‘em in the balls, stamping on the raised bit of their foot, jamming your thumbs in their eyes, and trying to hit the back of their knees.” He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “If they’re too close for you to do that, try to bite them. Humans have a pretty strong bite when it comes down to it, so you could cause some real damage that way.” 

I hummed in confirmation. 

“Okay, so, let’s recap.” He moved back towards me. “So I’m coming at you. What do you do first.” 

“Pepper spray.” 

“Yes, good. But say you can’t get it in time, and I’m too close. What else?” 

“Taser?” 

“Also a good option. But, if you can’t get to that, maybe you dropped it, what else?” 

“Punch, or knee to the balls.” 

“Good. Say I manage to recover anyway. I’ve got you trapped. What should you do?” 

“Balls again?” 

“Maybe. Are there other options?” 

“Stamp on your foot? Maybe try to jam my fingers into your eyes.” 

“All else fails, what’s the plan?” 

“Bite.” 

“Good. Now, how do you try to get help, if you can’t get away?” 

I remembered a PSA from my old school in Phoenix. “Scream fire.”

He nodded. “Yep, well done. Again, this is all last resort stuff. Above all, the aim is to get away.” 

I nodded, and held out my fist. Charlie looked at it, confused, and I shook it a bit. When he still didn’t move, I grabbed his hand and pulled it to meet mine in a fist bump. I grinned at the bemused expression on his face. 

We hadn’t done much physical stuff at all, in the end. I was grateful Charlie hadn’t tried to pin me. That would have resulted in an alarming amount of tears, that couldn’t be explained with my current story of ‘I was followed for a bit.’

We wandered back inside, and I started to make some hot chocolate. I had some vague memories of Charlie joking about how tea and coffee were just boring adult versions of cocoa, so I figured he’d appreciate it. He sat down at the counter and watched as I dug out marshmallows and cream from deep within the cupboards. 

“Hey, Bells?” He asked, as I waited for the milk to heat up. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why do you always cook? I know I let you but...you just sort of took on that job as soon as you moved in. I figured it was because you enjoy it, but you seem to think I can’t make anything myself.” 

I glanced over at him, confused. “It’s my job though.” 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s my job to cook for you. You pay the bills and look after me, I make the meals and do the chores in return. That’s how it works.” 

He frowned. “Bella, how am I looking after you if you do all the work?” 

I didn’t reply, choosing to pull out two mugs instead. 

He continued. “You are aware that I’m allowed to cook for you too? That’s how most families work.” 

I hummed noncommittally. Blair had often said the same thing, when she heard about what I did around the house. She hadn’t understood that Renée needed me to look after her; she wasn’t capable of cooking and cleaning for herself.

Charlie looked even more concerned at my lack of response. “Bells, I can cook. You don’t need to do it every day, and you certainly don’t need to make me packed lunches for when you’re not here.” 

I didn’t look at him, unsure of how to explain what was such a fundamental truth to me. Instead I mixed the milk and hot chocolate powder together in the mugs. Charlie seemed to sense my distress, and changed the subject with a sigh. 

“Alright, Bella.” He watched as I added a mountain of whipped cream to the mugs. “Do you have any plans for tonight? It’s a Saturday after all.” 

“Nah. I just want to get some sleep.” 

“None of the girls in town your type, eh?”

I pointedly ignored the image of a certain blonde that appeared in my mind. “No, none of them have caught my eye yet.” 

“I thought maybe Jessica Stanley...you said she was friendly?” 

“She’s _just_ a friend, Dad. And she’s dating Mike Newton.” 

“If you say so.” I didn’t miss the suspicion in his voice. He was awfully optimistic about my prospects of finding a girlfriend. 

We were both quiet as we sipped our hot chocolate. Despite his apparent attentiveness in the past few days—likely prompted by his concern after Port Angeles—Charlie was typically a taciturn person. It was one of the things I liked the most about him. 

When we’d both finally drained our mugs, he started to head into the living room, likely to watch a game on TV.

“Hey, Dad?” I called after him. 

He paused in the doorway. “Yeah, Bells?” 

“Do you want to watch Star Wars?” I’d never gotten into the films as a kid, but I knew Charlie loved them. 

He beamed. “Of course.” 

I trailed after him as he walked into the living room, listening to his criticism of the sequel franchise—he was particularly passionate when discussing how Luke’s character had been ruined. I tried to look like I knew what he was talking about. He only stopped speaking when the opening score began, looking more excited than I’d ever seen him. 

We finished the first film around dinner time, but Charlie decided to order burgers from the local diner, grumbling when I got up to prepare a meal. Despite my resistance, I did enjoy the break, and I couldn’t deny the appeal of some good curly fries. 

We ended up watching The Empire Strikes Back as well, eating our food on the couch. Although Charlie had kept up a running commentary of fun facts throughout A New Hope, he didn’t talk as much during the second film. I assumed the massive cheeseburger he’d eaten had something to do with the sudden lethargy. 

When the credits finally began to roll, I stood up and stretched, bones cracking noisily. Charlie waved goodnight as I left the room to go upstairs. 

I got ready for bed quickly, exhausted. I still wasn’t sure if I would go with Edward tomorrow—but I couldn’t ignore my intense curiosity about his family. My mind was still deciding as I drifted off to sleep.


	16. The Cullens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys I have changed the races of some of the Cullens for this story, because we don’t stan smeyers attitude of vampires are perfection and all vampires are white. Just to update you all before this chapter, here’s how everyone is in this fic: 
> 
> Jasper, Carlisle, and Rosalie are all white because I think you couldn't really change that without altering their backgrounds (maybe Rosalie could be changed but they're passing her off as Jaspers twin so I left it)
> 
> Edward is also white because him being a ginger is really important to me as a character trait 
> 
> Alice is Japanese 
> 
> Emmet is black
> 
> Esme is an Ashkenazi Jew

The muted light of yet another cloudy day eventually woke me. I lay with my arm across my eyes, groggy and dazed. Something, a dream trying to be remembered, struggled to break into my consciousness. I moaned and rolled on my side, hoping more sleep would come. And then the previous day flooded back into my awareness. 

I cursed. 

Edward was going to be coming round soon. I still hadn’t made up my mind on whether I would go with him—my stubborn resistance to his matchmaking warred with my burning desire to get to know the local vampires. I stretched out as I considered my options, bones cracking. Rosalie seemed to be on my side, at least from what I’d heard, and being in the same room as her wasn’t an agreement to marriage. The rest of the family might take it that way though...

I sighed and rolled out of bed, plodding to the bathroom. My muscles groaned in protest—the amateur self-defence class must have been more intensive than I thought. My reflection looked as tired as I felt: my eyes were crusty, and rimmed with purple shadows. After I brushed my teeth, I worked to straighten out the tangled chaos that was my hair. I splashed my face with cold water, trying to wake myself up, with no noticeable success. 

The kitchen was bright and happy, contrasting my mood. I found a bowl and a box of cereal, and was just pouring a bowl when the bell rang. 

I glanced at the hook by the door. Charlie’s coat was gone, so I was going to have to answer it. I tugged my pyjama shorts down, not wanting to flash the postman, and wandered over. 

I pulled it open, and saw Edward standing there, shuffling his feet. 

“What’s on the agenda for today?” He asked. Despite his calm tone, I sensed his apprehension.

“Well, currently, breakfast.” I replied. “You can come in if you want.” 

I turned and headed back to the kitchen, not turning to see if he followed. 

”Is the invitation thing real?” I called over my shoulder. 

”Pardon?” 

I sat down and continued pouring in the cereal. “Is the invitation thing real? You never come in unless I say you can. I’m pretty sure that’s a vampire myth.” 

He made a disgruntled sound and I looked up, seeing that he’d claimed a spot by the fridge. 

”That’s just me having good manners, Bella.” He sounded offended. 

I shrugged in response. “Okay. Just wondering.” I got up and walked to the fridge, looking for the milk. 

“I can protect you from my family.” He said as I opened the door. 

I snorted. “That’s not my concern Eddy-boi.” 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him blink in surprise—whether at the nickname or my bravado, I couldn’t tell. 

“Oh.” 

He didn’t speak again as I finished my cereal. When I stood up, he jumped to attention, ready to leave. 

“I’m getting dressed, dude.” 

He move back towards the wall, looking embarrassed. “Ah, yes. Of course.” 

It was hard to decide what to wear. I was beginning to lean towards going with him—the lure of more information was very strong—but I wasn’t sure if there was a certain etiquette they expected. They’d all been brought up over a century ago; I didn’t want to offend any of them by wearing a hat indoors, or something ridiculous like that. 

It took me a while, but I ended up in a ratty old band T-shirt and jeans. I’d decided that It wasn’t my job to cater to old opinions; I didn’t stand for it in other areas, why should it affect my clothing choices? I could imagine Blair laughing at my indecision in the first place. 

My hair was being its usual charming self, getting in my face and overall just pissing me off. I pulled it up into a bun and went back downstairs. 

“Hey, Edward?” I called out as I got to the bottom. 

He darted out of the kitchen, looking hopeful. “Yes, Bella?” 

“Why should I go to your house?” 

His expression was uncertain. “Well, everyone wants to meet you—“

“But why should _I_ meet them?” I tapped my foot impatiently. 

“I don’t... I’m not sure.”

I sighed, but didn’t say anything, choosing instead to just look at him blankly. 

“My mom really wants to meet you.” He said after a pause, voice soft.

“Your mom?” 

Edward smiled beatifically. “Yes. Esme. She’s really happy that I’ve made a friend—one that’s not in the family.” 

The soft smile on his face melted my resistance. Although I was still angry at him and Alice, I couldn’t deny that we were friends now. Edward was technically seventeen, despite his alarmingly long life, and his behaviour was very typical of a stupid teenager—admittedly one with a far superior vocabulary. 

“Fine.” I said. “I’ll go. But if anyone makes a comment about me ‘marrying in’ I’m leaving immediately.” 

He nodded eagerly. “Of course.” 

I realised, as he drove my truck out of the main part of town, that I had no idea where he lived. We passed over the bridge at Calawah River, the road winding northward, the houses flashing past us growing farther apart, getting bigger. And then we were past the other houses altogether, driving through the misty forest. I was trying to decide whether to ask or be patient, when he turned abruptly onto an unpaved road. It was unmarked, barely visible among the ferns. The forest encroached in both sides, leaving the road ahead only discernibly for a few meters as it twisted, serpentlike, around the ancient trees. 

And then, after a few miles, there’s was some thinning of the woods, and we were suddenly in a small meadow, or was it actually a lawn? The gloom of the forest didn’t relent, though, for there were seven primordial cedars that shaded an entire acre with their vast sweep of branches. The trees held their protesting shadow right up to the walls of the house that rose among them, glass reflecting the whole view back at us. 

I don’t know what I had expected, but it definitely wasn’t this. The house was huge, modern, and somehow incredibly graceful. A living wall curved around the western side, interrupted by the sleek panes of glass and wooden panels that covered the front. A balcony jutted out above the door, creating a porch that was suspended by cobblestone columns. My truck was the only car in sight. I could hear the river close by, hidden in the obscurity of the forest. 

“Wow.” 

“You like it?” He smiled. 

“It has a certain charm.” I said dryly. 

He laughed and pulled the end of my ponytail. 

“Let’s go.” He led the way through the deep shade up to the porch. 

The inside was very bright, very open, and very large. The entire ground floor was one open space, the back wall a continuous pane of glass. A massive curving staircase dominated the west side of the room, following the contours of the wall. 

Waiting to greet us, standing just to the left of the door, on a raised portion of the floor by a spectacular grand piano, was Edward’s parents. 

I’d seen Dr. Cullen before, of course, but at his side was Esme, I assumed, the only one of the family I hadn’t seen yet. She had the same beautiful features as the rest of them. Something about her heart-shaped face, her billows of soft soft, caramel-coloured hair reminded me of an old movie star my mother had been obsessed with—Lauren Bacall. Esme was small, slender, yet less angular than the others. She, like Carlisle, looked to be in her late thirties. They were both dressed casually, in light colours that matched the inside of the house. They smiled in welcome but made no move to approach us. Trying not to frighten me, I guessed. 

“Carlisle, Esme,” Edwards voice broke the short silence. “This is Bella.” 

“Nice to see you again, Dr. Cullen.” I waved at him. 

He seemed to take that as a sign to approach, and reached out to shake my hand. 

“Please, call me Carlisle.” 

I nodded. “Carlisle.” 

Esme was beaming, and stepped forward as well. She reached out for my hand. Her cold grasp was just as I expected. “It’s lovely to meet you Bella,” she said sincerely. 

“Thank you. I’m glad to meet you, too.” 

“Where are Alice and Jasper?” Edward asked. 

Esme turned her smile on him. “They’re in the kitchen, making Italian for Bella.” She looked back to me. “You’ve finally given us a chance to use it.” 

I smiled, but Edward groaned. “Mom, she’s eaten.” 

I kicked his shin, harming myself more than him, and glared at him. “It’s fine, Edward.” 

Esme looked unsettled for a moment, but then her expression cleared. “Well that’s no problem at all! We need to leave the chicken—I believe the recipe said for a few hours. Bella, would you like to have lunch with us?” 

I hummed in confirmation. I hadn’t thought it was possible, but Esme’s smile widened even further.

“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and walked towards the stairs. 

I looked toward Edward, but Carlisle’s expression distracted me; he was gazing meaningfully at Edward with an intense expression. I saw Edward nod once. Confused, I turned to follow Esme, already halfway up the stairs. 

As I made my way to the second floor, I began to hear voices, coming from what I assumed was the kitchen. 

“Is she even Italian?” Someone asked. I recognised Rosalie’s voice, but her accent seemed to have changed since the last time I’d spoken to her. She sounded like she was from the East Coast, rather than the slight Alaskan accent I’d heard before. 

“Her name _is_ Bella.” A mans voice replied, with a southern drawl. 

Rosalie snorted derisively. 

“Here comes the human!” I heard Alice sing. 

We rounded the corner, and I saw the four remaining Cullens spread throughout the kitchen, all busy with various food preparation jobs. Alice immediately dropped the knife she was holding, and skipped towards me. I heard Esme muffle a whimper as the knife embedded itself into the floor. 

“Bella!” Alice shrieked. “I knew you would come!” 

I smiled as she engulfed me in a hug. “Well, yeah. That’s your thing.” 

She pulled away, looking at me disapprovingly. “But I only found out this morning. I _knew_ before that.” 

Rosalie muttered something in the corner. Esme threw a disapproving glance at her. 

Alice ignored whatever was said, still clinging to my arm. She pointed at Jasper, who was standing next to an open window, as far away from me as possible. 

“So, that’s Jas,” she said. “Don’t worry about him, he’s still a bit new to the whole vegetarian thing. That’s Rose, you know her, and that over there is Emmet.” 

“Hey, Bella!” Emmet said, waving his knife. I recognised his voice as the one from earlier. “Very cool of you to be friends with Eddy. He’s the most boring one here.” 

I snorted. “I mean, it’s not all bad. There is that fun little edge of ‘will he kill me?’ going on in the friendship.” Esme gasped next to me. “I need to get an adrenalin kick from somewhere—Forks isn’t exactly a hotspot for exciting events.” 

He nodded sagely. “Yes, I understand. That makes sense.” 

I heard a strangled sound from next to me, and turned to look at Edward, who looked like he’d had a bucket of water dumped over his head. The rest of the family had similar looks of alarm on their faces. 

“That’s not funny.” Rosalie snapped, glaring at Emmet. 

Esme interjected just as Emmet opened his mouth to respond. “Okay, well. Let’s all go calm down and we can reconvene for lunch, okay? Edward, why don’t you take Bella on a tour?” 

Edward nodded, still looking shellshocked. Alice let go of me, and I followed him out the room, Emmets laughter following us out the door. 

Edward seemed eager to move on as we walked down the hall, gesturing as he led me past the doors. “Rosalie’s room...Emmet’s room...Carlisle’s office...Alice and Jasper’s room...”

He would have continued, but I stopped dead at the end of the hall, staring incredulously at the ornament hanging on the wall above my head. Edward chuckled at my bewildered expression. 

“You can laugh,” he said. “It _is_ sort of ironic.” 

I didn’t laugh. My hand raised automatically, one finger extended as if to touch the large wooden cross, it’s dark colouring contrasting with the lighter tone of the wall. I didn’t tough it, though I was curious if the aged wood would feel as silky as it looked. 

“It must be very old,” I guessed. 

He shrugged. “Early sixteen-thirties, more or less.” 

I looked away from the cross to stare at him. 

“Why do you keep this here?”

“Nostalgia. It belonged to Carlisle’s father.” 

“He collected antiques?” I suggested doubtfully. 

“No. He carved it himself. It hung on the wall above the pulpit in the vicarage where he preached.”

I wasn’t sure if my face betrayed my shock, but I returned to gazing at the simple, ancient cross, just in case. I quickly did the mental math; the cross was over three hundred and eighty years old. The silence stretched on as I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept of so many years. 

“Are you alright?”

“How old is Carlisle?” I asked quietly, ignoring his question. 

“He just celebrated his three hundred and seventy-second birthday,” Edward said. I looked back at him, a million questions in my eyes. 

He watched me carefully as he spoke. “Carlisle was born in London, in the sixteen-forties, he believes. Time wasn’t marked as accurately then, for the common people anyway. It was just before Cromwell’s rule, though.” 

I kept my face composed, aware of his scrutiny as I listened. It was easier if I didn’t try to believe. 

“He was the only son of an Anglican pastor. His mother died giving birth to him. His father was an intolerant man. He was enthusiastic in his persecution of Roman Catholic’s and other religions. He also believed very strongly in the reality of evil. He led hunts for witches, werewolves...and vampires.” I grew very still at the word. I’m sure he noticed, but he went on without pausing. 

“They burned a lot of innocent people—of course the real creatures that he sought were not so easy to catch.

“When the pastor grew old, he placed his obedient son in charge of the raids. At first Carlisle was a disappointment; he was not quick to accuse, to see demons where they did not exist. But he was persistent, and more clever than his father. He actually discovered a coven of true vampires that lived hidden in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt. In those days, when monsters were not just myths and legends, that was the way many lived.

“The people gathered their pitchforks and torches of course, and waited where Carlisle had seen the monsters exit into the street. Eventually one emerged.” 

His voice was very quiet, and I was distracted by the use of the word monster. I couldn’t tell if he was mimicking the mob, or if it was a genuine belief. 

“He must have been ancient, and weak with hunger. Carlisle heard him call out in Latin to the others when he caught the scent of the mob. He ran through the streets, and Carlisle was in the lead of the pursuit. The creature could have easily outrun them, but Carlisle believes he was too hungry to resist. So he turned and attacked. He fell on Carlisle first, but the others were close behind, and he turned to defend himself. He killed two men, and made off with a third, leaving Carlisle bleeding in the street.

“Carlisle knew what his father would do. The bodies would be burned—anything infected by the monster must be destroyed. Carlisle acted instinctively to save his own life. He crawled away from the alley while the mob followed the fiend and his victim. He hid in a cellar, buried himself in rotting potatoes for three days. It’s a miracle he was able to keep silent, to stay undiscovered.

“It was over then, and he realised what he had become.” 

I’m not sure what my face was revealing, but suddenly he broke off. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

“I’m fine,” I assured him. “You can carry on.” 

He opened his mouth, but paused, inclining his head. “Carlisle says he can tell you the rest at lunch, himself, if you would like?” 

I nodded, then realised Carlisle was probably listening. “That would be cool.” 

Edward grinned. “Cool.” 

He continued to walk down the hall, reaching the door at the end. 

“This is my room,” he said, throwing open the door with a flourish. 

His room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below. The whole back of the house must be glass. His view looked down on the winding Sol Duc River, across the untouched forest to the Olympic Mountain range. The mountains were much closer than I would have believed. 

The western wall was completely covered with shelf after shelf of CDs. His room was better stocked than a music store. In the corner was a sophisticated-looking sound system, the kind I was afraid to tough because I’d be sure I’d break something. There was no bed, only a wide and inviting black leather sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden carpet, and the walls were hung with a heavy fabric in a slightly darker shade. 

“Good acoustics?” I guessed. 

He chuckled and nodded. 

He picked up a remote and turned the stereo on. It was quiet, but the soft jazz number sounded like the band was in the room with us. I went to look at his mind-boggling music collection, when I remembered something from earlier. 

“Oh, What was Carlisle telling you before?” 

His eyebrows pulled together. “You noticed that, did you?” 

I shrugged. 

He looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds before answering. “He wanted to tell me some news—he didn’t know if it was something I would share with you.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“Alice sees some visitors coming soon. They know we’re here, and they’re curious.” 

“Visitors?” 

“Yes...well, they aren’t like us, of course—in their hunting habits I mean. They probably won’t come into town at all, but it’s a risk for the town.” 

I shivered. 

“Finally, a rational response!” He said. “I was beginning to think you had no self-preservation at all.”

I rolled my eyes. “I was joking, before, in the kitchen.”

“I know. That’s what makes it worse—you aren’t taking it seriously.” 

“Emmet found it funny.” I said petulantly. 

“Oh, yeah, you won him over completely. Alice is furious because he’s going to be as close to you as she will be.” 

I glared at him. He seemed to realise what he’d said. 

“Sorry,” He said, looking chastened. 

“You’re not going to get your way anyway—Rosalie very clearly dislikes me.”

He sighed deeply. “She doesn’t dislike _you_ personally, it’s just...Rose struggles the most with what we are. It’s hard for her to have someone on the outside know the truth. And she’s a little jealous.”

“ _Rosalie_ is jealous of _me_?” I asked incredulously. I tried to imagine a universe where someone as out of my league as Rosalie would have any possible reason to feel jealous of someone like me. 

“You’re human,” He shrugged. “She wishes she were, too.” 

“Oh,” I muttered, still stunned. “Still, Jasper doesn’t seem very team Bella either.”

”Thats really mine and Alice's fault. We wanted him to keep his distance—he’s still pretty new to this.” 

I nodded, trying very hard not to think about why he needed to stay away.

”Once he gets more comfortable though, I promise he’s charming. A proper southern gentleman, through and through.” Edward said, sensing my discomfort. 

We sat there for a few more minutes in silence, letting the music wash over us. After a while, he moved towards the door again. 

”Lunch is ready,” he said. 

I smiled. “Time for me to sit at a table as seven people watch me eat.” 

He snorted, and opened the door. 


	17. Carlisle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was watching JoJo rabbit and idk why, so many scenes reminded me of twilight, like the "you know what I am, SAY IT" and "this table is Switzerland"

I’d seen a large dining table on the ground floor, but Edward led me back to the kitchen. His family was crammed around a large glass table, watching us as we came in. The smell of chicken hit me as soon as I walked over the threshold. 

“Wow, thank you so much. It smells wonderful.” I said as I sat down between Alice and Edward. 

Esme smiled bashfully. “It was no problem Bella. It’s been such a long time since any of us have cooked.” 

Rosalie muttered something under her breath, and Carlisle shot her a reproving glance. Alice and Edward grinned manically. 

“Well,” I said, trying to ignore the gleeful looks they were sending my way. “I suppose some of you wouldn’t have cooked while you were alive, right?” 

Rosalie looked at me in horror. 

Emmet snorted and looked across the table at Alice. “You’re right. You’re so right.” 

Rosalie reached out and hit him. The table rocked as he responded with a sharp kick. Esme hissed out a reprimand as she steadied it, keeping her eye on my plate. 

“Why, Bella,” Edward asked, clearly repressing laughter. “Whatever do you mean?” 

I looked at him suspiciously. “I mean...you’re all like, old? I’m no history expert, but you, Emmet, Jasper and Carlisle, I feel like it’s unlikely any of you ever did any cooking?” I looked around the table tentatively. Rosalie looked like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch me or hug me. Emmet, Edward, and Alice all seemed very securely in the hug zone. 

Jasper kept his face pointedly blank. 

Esme smiled gently at me, ignoring her children. “Yes, I suppose that’s right. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say that _I_ was glad for the opportunity to cook again.” 

I started to eat, trying not to feel uncomfortable under the weight of their gazes. “Can you guys not eat black pudding or blood sausage then?” 

Carlisle was the one to respond. “I suppose we’ve never tried. They’re not particularly popular dishes in the US. It would probably be easier than normal human food, but the seasoning and herbivore blood would make it still far less appetising than our usual diet.” 

I nodded, mouth full of food. 

“Even if we could, why would we?” Emmet added. “We’d only eat normal food to convince other people we’re normal. Living exclusively off black pudding is probably more weird than teenagers skipping lunch.” 

I hummed in agreement. Esme looked alarmed. 

“There are children at your school skipping lunch?” She asked, concern evident in her voice. “Maybe I _should_ apply to be the counsellor...”

The collective groan from around the table suggested this was a regular argument. I tried to hide my laugh with another mouthful of chicken. From the look Jasper shot me, I wasn’t successful. 

The entire family seemed ready to launch into a debate on Esme’s career, when Carlisle interrupted.

“I’m sure Bella isn’t interested in our family arguments.” He said, eyes begging me not to disagree. “Edward said you were asking about my history?”

“I’d rather we yelled at each than had another history lesson.” Emmet said darkly. Jasper nudged him in commiseration, a small smile dancing across his lips. When he saw that I was looking, however, his face dropped. 

Carlisle ignored Emmet, still looking at me. “Bella?”

“I’d like to know more...” I said slowly. 

Emmet scowled at me. “You’ve betrayed me today, Bella. And to think, I was going to make you a friendship bracelet.” 

“Sucks for you.” Alice said smugly, encircling me in a tight side hug. 

“Where did you get to?” Carlisle asked, choosing to ignore their jibes.

“You being turned.” Edward answered. 

“Ah, yes.” Carlisle looked back at me. “Most of our family went through a period of...rebellion, when we were first turned. I was no exception—although I rebelled against my nature, rather than the coven.” 

I felt Edward shift next to me. 

“Vampires are very difficult to kill, something I discovered almost immediately after being turned. My fathers lessons taught me to be disgusted by myself, and I refused to feed, choosing death by starvation over killing.”

“Is that possible?” I asked quietly.

“No.” Carlisle replied, smiling gently. “Even so, the hungrier I grew, the more my willpower weakened. I moved far away from the cities, and ended up somewhere in the northern moors. One night, a herd of deer passed my hiding place. I attacked without thought, driven mad by hunger, and my strength returned almost instantly. I realised there was an alternative to being the vile monster I feared.”

I glanced at the faces of the other Cullens. Edward was listening raptly, as if Carlisle was delivering a great sermon. The others had varying levels of interest on their faces, with Rosalie and Emmet silently playing rock, paper, scissors in the corner. 

“With my new life in front of me, I had unlimited time to devote myself to education. I swam to France and—“

“You _swam_ to France?” I interrupted.

“People swim the Channel all the time, Bella,” Edward reminded me impatiently. 

“That’s true, I guess. It just sounded funny in that context. Go on.”

Carlisle looked bemused, but continued. “Swimming is easy for us, because technically, we don’t need to breathe.”

“You don’t have to _breathe_?” I demanded. 

I heard someone laugh and turned to see Rosalie watching me in amusement. “No, it’s not really necessary. Just a habit.” 

_Don’t think too hard about that. Don’t. There is absolutely no reason Rosalie being able to go indefinitely without breathing is interesting._

I tried to form some sort of coherent response, but produced a garbled hum instead. 

Emmet chuckled, and winked exaggeratedly at me. 

Carlisle sighed, drawing my attention. 

“Sorry.” I said, blushing. “I won’t interrupt again.” 

“I swam to France, and continued on through Europe, to the universities there. I studied music, science, medicine—and found my calling, my redemption, in saving human lives.”

“It took him two centuries of torturous effort to perfect his self-control.” Edward interjected, his voice reverent. “Now he is all but immune to the scent of human blood.” 

Carlisle smiled at him, inclining his head. “Thank you Edward. You give me too much credit.” He paused, recollecting his thoughts. “In Italy I discovered others like me. They were more educated and civilised that the wraiths of the London sewers. Aro, Marcus, and Caius. Nighttime patrons of the arts.”

I noticed the slightly somber tone of his voice. “What happened to them?” 

“They’re still there. As they have been for who knows how many millennia. I only stayed with them for a short time, just a few decades. I admired their civility, their refinement, but they tried to cure my aversion to my ‘natural food source,’ as they called it. Eventually I made my way to the New World, in search of others like me.

“I didn’t find anyone for a long time. But, as monsters became the stuff of fairy tales, I found I could interact with humans as if I were one of them. I began practicing medicine.” 

Edward interjected again. “When the influenza epidemic hit, he was working nights in a hospital in Chicago. He hadn’t found a companion, and had decided—after several years—to create one.”

“I was loath to steal anyone’s life the way mine had been stolen.” Carlisle continued. I heard someone’s chair squeak against the floor, but didn’t turn to look, enraptured by Carlisle’s story. “I found Edward, dying, with no hope. I had nursed his parents, and knew he was alone. His mother had begged me to save him, by any means necessary. I decided I would turn him.” 

During his monologue, I’d finished my plate. When Carlisle made no move to continue, I stood up, taking my plate with me. The entire family jolted to attention, startled by my movement. 

“I was just going to wash up...” I said, lifting up the dirty dish. 

“Oh, Bella, no, that’s our job.” Alice said, grabbing it from my hands. “You’re our guest! Stay, sit down. We can handle the dishes.”

I stood up, unsure of what to do. “But none of you wash up...I’m used to it, it’s fine.” 

I saw Esme and Edward exchange some sort of look out of the corner of my eye.

“Well it’s hardly complicated!” Alice said, her voice bubbly. “Just relax, let Edward tell you our afternoon plans.”

As she spoke, I suddenly felt a wave of peacefulness engulf me. I sat back down, unsure of why I’d been so resistant in the first place. Rosalie seemed to be glaring at Jasper, which I couldn’t understand; there was no reason to be anything but calm. 

“Ah, yes,” Edward said. I turned to him, feeling a bit dazed. “There’s going to be a real storm tonight, and Jasper and Emmet want to play ball. Would you like to join us?” 

“What does the storm have to do with it?” I asked, confused. 

“We have to wait for thunder to play,” Emmet said. “You’ll see why.” 

“Will I need an umbrella?” 

The whole table laughed. 

“Will she?” Jasper asked Alice. 

“No.” She was positive. “The storm will hit over town. It should be dry enough in the clearing.”

“Good, then.” The enthusiasm in Jaspers voice was catching. 

The pair made their way out of the kitchen, closely followed by Carlisle and Esme. 

“What will we be playing?”

“ _You_ will be watching,” Edward clarified. “We will be playing baseball.”

I rolled my eyes. “Vampires like baseball?”

“It’s the American pastime,” Emmet interjected with mock solemnity. 

Rosalie rolled her eyes and stood up, dragging Emmet behind her as she walked towards the door. 

“Rose, wait!” Edward called after her. 

She turned around, tapping her foot impatiently. “What?”

“You should drive Bella back to her father’s, so she can let him know where she’ll be.”

“Why can’t you take her?”

“Because her truck might break down, and you’re our resident mechanic.” 

Rosalie looked like she was about to protest, but she stopped, turning her head like she was listening to someone. Her frown deepened. 

“See?” Edward said, smiling. “Alice agrees. You wouldn’t want Bella to be stranded, would you?” 

“Edward, come on.” I muttered at him, tugging on his sleeve. I knew the other two could hear me, but anger won out over embarrassment. “Remember our deal.” 

He glanced at me, looking a bit remorseful, but Emmet spoke before he could. 

“She’ll go.” He said, pushing Rosalie at me. 

She turned back towards him, mouth opening in a snarl. Emmet began talking rapidly, too fast for me to understand, hands held up placatingly. After a moments pause, Rosalie glanced over her shoulder at me and Edward. 

“Fine.” She snapped. “But Edward? You’re still an asshole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've seen some fic writers do lil "next time, on a bank of violets: " then a teaser for the next chapter. Would y'all be interested in something like that?


	18. The Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rosalie is so out if character in this fic and I hate it, but also her original character was literally just I hate Bella, I want a baby, which is really hard to work with in a love interest. 
> 
> Also I'm pretty sure I've been spelling Emmet (Emmett?) wrong this entire time but I'm too lazy to go back and change it right now.

It was just beginning to drizzle when Rosalie pulled out of their drive. Neither of us had spoken yet, her outburst still very fresh in my mind. The mutual knowledge of Alice’s vision also didn’t help. 

“Hey, Bella?” She broke the silence first, her voice softer than I’d expected. 

“Yeah?” I replied. 

She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Are you okay? Did you talk to Jess, and your dad?”

“Yeah.” I kept my tone carefully neutral. 

“How was it?” 

“Alright. Jess was nice about it. I lied to my dad a bit—“ She looked over in concern. “He’d just be upset because he couldn’t do anything. I didn’t want to put that on him.”

She frowned. “Bella, he’s your dad. You shouldn’t lie to him to spare his feelings. His job is to look out for you.”

I grunted noncommittally, not knowing how to respond. When I gave no sign of speaking, Rosalie sighed, clearly frustrated by my reticence; she seemed resigned though, as if she’d expected it. 

The silence grew more awkward, and after a few minutes, Rosalie switched on the radio. A new song was just starting; I recognised it, and began to hum along. 

Rosalie smiled. “You know this song?”

I stopped abruptly, blushing. “Yeah...it’s one of my favourites. My best friend used to make fun of me because I sang it so often.”

“Can’t blame you,” she chuckled. 

“Thank you! Blair kept calling me a stereotype whenever I played it.”

“I’d say you’re still a stereotype.” 

I gaped at her. She grinned back at me, and my mind went blank. Her golden hair was pulled up, but a few tendrils had fallen out, curling around her face. Sat in my old truck, with rain pounding the windows, she should have looked out out of place. 

She did not. 

Rosalie looked like the entire world had been painted to frame her. The grey tinge of the storm didn’t reach her. She was a Renaissance painters dream, golden curls framing her face like a halo. I stared at her, caught off guard; I’d repressed my initial attraction in protest of Edward’s interference, but in the familiar warmth of my truck, I was unprepared. 

By the time I’d regained focus, her beautiful smile had faded, and she was looking at me in concern. 

“Sorry,” I said, blushing. “Zoned out.”

“Okay,” she looked back at the road, expression sceptical. 

I sat back in my seat, letting the music wash over me, when I jolted. 

“I’m a stereotype?” 

She laughed. “Yeah, Bella, you are. You listen to Girl in Red.”

“You’re one to talk!” 

“What?” Her voice was filled with playful outrage.

“You’re a _mechanic_.”

She tilted her head. “Point. You’ve got this truck though.” 

I ignored her, desperate to win. “How old are you?”

She blinked, confused by my question. “What?”

“How old are you?”

“Physically 19, currently saying I’m 18. Technically a bit over 100.” She scrunched up her face; she seemed uncomfortable with the admission. 

“So you’ve definitely had a girlfriend.” I said quickly, eager to move away from the apparently upsetting topic of age. 

“Yes, but having never had a girlfriend is a way bigger stereotype.” Her voice was smug. 

I cursed. “Goddamit.” 

She smirked. “Don’t let Edward hear you talking like that.” 

“He’s religious?”

“Incredibly. He took Carlisle’s teachings to heart when he was turned.”

I hummed, remembering the adoration on Edward’s face during lunch. “Sounds about right.” 

We lapsed back into silence. Eventually we pulled into my drive. I opened my mouth to say goodbye, but she shushed me, gesturing to the black car, parked in front of us. 

Leaning away from the rain under the shallow front porch, Jacob Black stood behind his father’s wheelchair. Billy’s face was impassive as stone. Jacob stared down, his expression mortified. 

“Well, this is rude.” Rosalie said, voice low. 

“He came to warn Charlie?” I guessed, more horrified than angry. 

“I assume so.” She laughed bitterly. “Guess Alice doesn’t see everything.” 

I hummed in agreement. “I’ll handle it.” 

“You sure?” She asked, eyes searching mine. 

“Yeah. Pretty sure it’d be much worse if you got involved.” 

She nodded in agreement. “Okay. Someone will be round to pick you up in about an hour.”

“Probably you,” I said, smiling tentatively. “Alice won’t let you get away that easily.”

She rolled her eyes, but seemed to appreciate my joke. “Yeah. Probably.” 

“Why can’t I drive, anyway?” I asked. 

“Your truck can’t handle off-roading.”

“It can!” I said defensively. It could handle a crash, so it could handle off-roading.

She grinned. “No, Bella, it can’t. Trust me, I’m a mechanic.” She winked. “I’ll be back around dusk. See you then.”

I snorted derisively, but left the car without further argument, waving goodbye as I opened the door and stepped out into the rain. 

I could feel her eyes on me as I half-ran toward the porch. 

“Hey, Billy. Hi, Jacob.” I greeted them as cheerfully as I could manage. “Charlie’s gone for the day—I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” 

“Not long,” Billy said in a subdued tone. His black eyes were piercing. “I just wanted to bring this up.” He indicated a brown paper sack resting in his lap. 

“Thanks,” I said, though I had no idea what it could be. “Why don’t you come in for a minute and dry off?”

I pretended to be oblivious to his intense scrutiny as I unlocked the door, and waved them in ahead of me. 

“Here, let me take that,” I offered, turning to shut the door. 

“You’ll want to put it in the fridge,” Billy noted as he handed me the package. “It’s done of Harry Clearwater’s homemade fish fry—Charlie’s favourite. The fridge keeps it dryer.” He shrugged.

“Thanks,” I repeated, but with feeling this time. “I was running out of new ways to fix fish, and he’s bound to bring home more tonight.”

“Fishing again?” Billy asked with a subtle gleam in his eye. “Down at the usual spot? Maybe I’ll run by and see him.”

“No,” I quickly lied, my face going hard. “He was headed someplace new...but I have no idea where.”

He took in my changed expression, and it made him thoughtful. 

“Jake,” He said, still appraising me. “Why don’t you go get that new picture of Rebecca out of the car? I’ll leave that for Charlie, too.”

“Where is it?” Jacob asked, his voice morose. I glanced at him, but he was staring at the floor. 

“I think I saw it in the trunk,” Billy said. “You may have to dig for it.”

Jacob slouched back out into the rain.

Billy and I faced each other in silence. After a few seconds, the quiet started to feel awkward, so I turned and headed to the kitchen. I could hear his wet wheels squeak against the linoleum as he followed.

I shoved the bag onto the crowded top shelf of the fridge, and spun around to confront him. His deeply lined face was unreadable. 

“Charlie won’t be back for a long time.” My voice was almost rude. 

He nodded in agreement, but said nothing. 

“Thanks again for the fish fry,” I hinted. 

He continued nodding. I sighed and folded my arms across my chest. 

He seemed to sense that I had given up in small talk. “Bella,” He said, and then he hesitated. 

I waited. 

“Bella,” He said again. “Charlie is one of my best friends.”

“Yes.”

He spoke each word carefully in his rumbling voice. “I noticed you’ve been spending time with the Cullens.”

“Yes,” I repeated curtly. 

His eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s none of my business, but I don’t think that is such a good idea.”

“You’re right,” I agree. “It _is_ none of your business.”

He raised his greying eyebrows at my tone. “You probably don’t know this, but the Cullen family has an unpleasant reputation in the reservation.”

“Actually, I did know that,” I informed him in a hard voice. This surprised him. “But that reputation couldn’t be deserved, could it? Because the Cullens never set foot in the reservation, do they?”

I could see that my less than subtle reminder of the agreement that both bound and protected his tribe pulled him up short. 

“That’s true,” he conceded, his eyes guarded. “You seem...well informed about the Cullens. More informed than I expected.” 

I stared him down. “Maybe even better informed than you are.”

He purses his thick lips as he considered that. “Maybe,” he allowed, but his eyes were shrewd. “Is Charlie well informed?”

He had found the weak chink in my armour. 

“Charlie likes the Cullens a lot,” I hedged. He clearly understood my evasion. His expression was unhappy, but unsurprised. 

“It’s not my business,” he said. “But it may be Charlie’s.”

“Though it would be my business, again, whether or not I think it’s Charlie’s business, right?”

I wondered if he even understood my confused question as I struggled not to say anything compromising. He thought about it while the rain hammered against the roof, the only sound breaking the silence. 

“Yes,” he finally surrendered. “I guess that’s your business, too.”

I sighed with relief, and started to walk back towards the door. “Thanks, Billy.”

He grabbed my wrist as I passed, stopping me in my tracks. I flinched— _hothandsdarktrapped_ —and the concern in his face grew. He let go quickly. 

“Just think about what you’re doing, Bella,” he urged. 

“Okay,” I agreed quickly. 

He frowned. “What I meant to say was, don’t do what you’re doing.”

I looked into his eyes, filled with nothing but concern for me, and there was nothing I could say. 

Just then the front door banged loudly, and I jumped at the sound. 

“There’s no picture anywhere in that car.” Jacobs complaining voice reached us before he did. The shoulders of his shirt were stained with rain, his hair dripping, when he rounded the corner. 

“Hmm,” Billy grunted, suddenly detached, spinning his chair around to face his son. “I guess I left it at home.”

Jacob rolled his eyes dramatically. “Great.”

I snickered, and he shot me a pleased glance. 

“Well, Bella, tell Charlie—“ Billy paused pointedly before continuing. “That we stopped by, I mean.” 

“I will,” I muttered.

Jacob was surprised. “Are we leaving already?”

“Charlie’s going to be out late,” Billy explained as he rolled himself past Jacob. 

“Oh.” Jacob looked disappointed. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, then, Bella.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I still need to drop round that car thingy.”

He grinned. “Master cylinder.”

I snapped my fingers. “Yes! Exactly.”

He laughed as I walked them to the door. Billy looked slightly appeased by our conversation, though his brow was still furrowed. 

“Take care,” Billy warned me. I didn’t answer. 

Jacob helped his father out the door. I waved briefly, glancing swiftly at my now-empty truck, and then shut the door before they were gone. 

I stood in the hallway for a minute, listening to the sound of their car as it backed out and drove away. I stayed where I was, waiting for the irritation and anxiety to subside. When the tension eventually faded a bit, I headed upstairs to change out of my clothes. 

I tried on a couple different tops, not sure what to expect tonight. It would definitely be colder, and we were outside. I ended up throwing an old flannel on top of my T-shirt, knowing I would be in my raincoat as well. 

The phone rang and I went downstairs to get it. It was probably just a cold call, so I took my time getting there. 

“Hello?” I asked, voice bored. 

“Bella? It’s me,” Jess said. 

“Oh, hey, Jess.” I perked up immediately. “How was the dance?”

“It was so much fun!” Jess gushed. Needing no more invitation than that, she launched into a minute-by-minute account of the previous night. 

“And then Mike kissed me! Can you believe it?”

“Aw shit, that’s awesome Jess.”

“I know! He was so sweet about it, and it was only a peck really...” She trailed off. “But he asked to go out next weekend!”

“That’s great!” I said, grinning. 

She giggled. “I still can’t believe he likes me. I thought for sure you or Lauren was his type... But what did _you_ do yesterday, hmm?”

“Nothing, really. I just hung around outside to enjoy the sun.”

I heard Charlie’s car in the garage. 

“What about today? Anything fun?”

The front door slammed and I could hear Charlie banging around under the stairs, putting his tackle away. 

“Not really,” I said. 

“Hi there, kiddo!” Charlie called as he walked into the kitchen. I waved at him. 

Jess heard his voice. “Oh, your dads there. Never mind—we’ll talk tomorrow. See you in Trig.”

“See ya, Jess.” I hung up, and immediately pulled out my phone to text her. 

**Bella > Jess 17:56 **

_I guess going to the Cullens house for family dinner counts as fun?_

I slid it back into my pocket, grinning as I saw the notifications begin to flood in. Jess would definitely yell at me about this tomorrow. 

“Hey, Dad,” I said. He was scrubbing his hands in the sink. “Where’s the fish?”

“I put it out in the freezer.”

“I’ll go grab a few pieces before they freeze—Billy dripped off some of Harry Clearwater’s fish fry this afternoon.”

“He did?” Charlie’s eyes lit up. “I haven’t made that in ages.” 

I started walking out to the freezer, but Charlie got there first. 

“Bells, you go upstairs and relax for a bit. I can do it.”

I obeyed reluctantly, glancing back towards the kitchen as I left.

It didn’t take long till it was ready, and we were sat at the table, eating in silence. I was surprised at how good it was—although, Charlie had said he’d made it before. 

“What did you do with yourself today?” He asked, snapping my out of my reverie. 

“Well, this afternoon I just hung around the house...” only the very recent part of this afternoon actually. I tried to keep my voice upbeat, but my stomach was hollow. “And this morning I was over at the Cullens’.”

Charlie dropped his fork. 

“Dr. Cullen’s place?” He asked in astonishment. 

I pretended not to notice his reaction. “Yeah.” 

“What were you doing there?” He hadn’t picked his fork back up. 

“Well I’m hanging out with the family tonight—I’m friends with Edward—and he wanted to introduce me first...Dad?”

I appeared that Charlie was having an aneurysm. 

“Dad, are you all right?”

“Are you going out with Edward Cullen?” He thundered.

I laughed. “No, dad, no. Girls, remember?”

He paused, looking sheepish. “Oh. Right. Is he coming over to pick you up?”

“No, I think his sister is.”

He picked up his fork and pointed it at me accusingly. “That’s a girl.” 

I looked at him in confusion. “Yes.”

“Are you dating her?”

“No.” I tried to keep my tone light, but it didn’t work. 

Charlie narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You said last night you weren’t interested in any of the girls in town.”

“Well, she doesn’t live in town.” 

He gave me a disparaging look as he chewed. “Which sister?” He asked. 

“Uh...the older one. Rosalie?”

“How much older?” 

I suppressed a laugh. “18. She’s a senior.”

“She’s too old for you.” He said, frowning. 

I groaned loudly. “Dad, it’s a one year gap.” Technically. “And we’re not dating.”

“When is she coming over?” 

“She’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Where is she taking you?” 

I sighed. “I hope you’re getting the Spanish Inquisition out of your system now. We’re going to play baseball.” 

His face puckered, and then he finally chuckled. “ _You’re_ playing baseball?”

“Well, I’ll probably watch most of the time.”

“You must really like this girl,” he observed suspiciously. 

I rolled my eyes. “Dad, I’m hanging out with my friends family. I’m not dating his sister.”

He grunted doubtfully. 

I heard the roar of an engine pull up in front of the house. I jumped up and started cleaning my dishes. 

“Leave the dishes, I can do them tonight.”

The doorbell rang, and Charlie stalked off to answer it. I was half a step behind him. 

I hadn’t realised how hard it’s was pouring outside. Rosalie stood in the halo of the porch light, looking like a model in an ad for raincoats. 

“Come on in, Rosemary.” 

I groaned. “Rosalie, dad. Rosalie.”

“Thanks, Chief Swan.” Rosalie said in a respectful voice. 

“Go ahead and call me Charlie. Here, I’ll take your jacket.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Have a seat there, Rosalie.” 

I grimaced. Apparently _everyone_ in my life was convinced I was dating Rosalie, despite my protests. Charlie was using his chief voice, and seemed determined to intimidate her—he’d probably crack out the shotgun soon enough. 

Rosalie sat down fluidly in the only chair, forcing me to sit next to Chief Swan on the sofa. 

“So I hear you’re getting my girl to watch baseball.” Only in Washington would the fact that it was raining buckets have no bearing at all on the playing of outdoor sports. 

“Yes, sir, that’s the plan.”

“Well, more power to you, I guess.”

Charlie laughed, and Rosalie joined in. 

“Okay.” I stood up. “Enough humour at my expense. Let’s go.” I walked back to the hall, and pulled on my jacket. They followed.

“Not too late, Bells.”

“Don’t worry, Charlie, I’ll have her home early.” Rosalie promised, smirking.

I groaned, but they ignored me.

“Good. See you both later.” 

I waved, and walked out into the porch, where I stopped dead. There, behind my truck, was a monster jeep. It’s tires were higher than my waist. There were metal guards over the headlights and taillights and four large spotlights attaches to the crash bar. The hardtop was a shiny blue. 

Charlie let out a low whistle. 

“Wear your seatbelts,” he choked out. 

Rosalie followed me around to my side and opened the door. I gauged the distance to the seat and prepared to jump for it. She sighed, and then lifted me in with one hand. I just hoped Charlie didn’t notice. 

As she went around to the drivers side, at a normal, human pace, I tried to put in my seat belt. But there were too many buckles. 

“What’s all this?” I asked when she opened the door.

“It’s an off-roading harness.”

“Uh-Oh.” That didn’t bode well.

I tried to find the right places for all the buckles to fit, but it wasn’t going too quickly. She sighed again, and reached over to help me. I gave up trying to help her and focus on breathing p as her hands danced across my chest (read: boobs), tightening the straps. 

Rosalie turned the key and the engine roared to life. We pulled away from the house. 

“This is a...um... _big_ jeep you have.”

She smirked. “Thanks. It’s Emmet’s though. I didn’t think you’d want to run the whole way.”

“Where do you keep this thing?”

“We remodelled one of the outbuildings into a garage.”

“Aren’t you going to put on your seatbelt?”

She threw me a disbelieving look. 

Then something sunk in.

“Run the _whole_ way? As in, were still going to run part of the way?” My voice edged up a few octaves. 

She grinned. “Oh, calm down, you’re not running.”

“Yeah, _I’m_ going to be sick.”

“Keep your eyes closed, you’ll be fine.”

I snorted derisively.

I don’t know how she found her way in the gloom and downpour, but she somehow found a side road that was less of a road and more of a mountain path. For a long while conversation was impossible, because I was bouncing up and down on the seat like a jackhammer. She seemed to enjoy the ride, though, smiling hugely the whole way. 

And then we came to the end of the road; the trees formed green walls on three sides of the jeep. The rain was a mere drizzle, slowing every second, the sky brighter through the clouds. 

“Sorry, Bella, we have to go on foot from here.”

“You know what? I’ll just wait here.”

She laughed. “If I don’t have a choice about driving you here, what makes you think you get a choice about coming?” 

“Well that seems like a you problem—“ I began, before it was cut off by a strangled yelp, as she picked me up. 

Rosalie threw me across her back, and I instinctively locked my legs around her waist and my arms in a chokehold around her neck. 

“Asshole!” I panted. 

“Don’t forget to close your eyes.” She warned, but I could hear the smile in her voice. 

I quickly tucked my face into her shoulder blade, under my own arm, and squeezed my eyes shut. 

I could hardly tell we were moving. I could feel her gliding along beneath me, but she could have been strolling down the sidewalk, the movement was so smooth. I was tempted to peek, just to see if she was really running through the forest, but I resisted. It wasn’t worth the inevitable motion sickness. 

I wasn’t quite sure we had stopped until she reached back and touched my hair. 

“It’s over, Bella.” 

I dared to open my eyes, and, sure enough, we were at a standstill. I stiffly I locked my stranglehold on her body and slipped to the ground, landing on my backside. 

“Oh!” I hugged as I hit the wet ground. 

She stared at me incredulously. When I didn’t move, face bewildered, she broke into a roar of laughter. 

I picked myself up, ignoring her as I brushed the mud and bracken off the back of my jacket. That only made her laugh harder. Annoyed, I began to stride off into the forest. 

“Where are you going, Bella?” I heard her call from behind me. 

“To watch a baseball game. You don’t seem to be interested in playing anymore, but I’m sure the others will have fun without you.”

“You’re going the wrong way.”

I turned around without looking at her, and stalked off in the opposite direction. I felt her arm circle around my waist; my stomach dropped and I froze, blushing violently. 

“Sorry, Bella.” She said, spinning me to face her. “You should’ve seen your face.”

I glared. “You’re rude. Very rude.”

“To be fair, you don’t want to like me. I’m just helping you out.” Her voice was suddenly serious. 

“Oh. Yeah. Well. No need to be a dick.” I said quietly.

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Come on, I don’t want to face the wrath of Chief Swan if you’re home late.” 

She led me a few feet through the tall, wet, ferns and draping moss, around a massive hemlock tree, and we were there, on the edge of an enormous open field in the lap of the Olympic peaks. It was twice the size of any baseball stadium. 

I could see the others all there; Esme, Emmet, and Edward, sitting on a bare outcropping of rock, were the closest to us, maybe a hundred yards away. Much further out I could see Jasper and Alice, at least a quarter of a mile apart, appearing to throw something back and forth, but I never saw a ball. It looked like Carlisle was marking bases, but could they really be that far apart?

When we came into view, the three on the rocks rose. Esme started toward us, and Emmet followed. Edward strode across the field, stopping when he got to left field. 

Alice had left her position and was running, or dancing toward us. She hurtled to a fluid stop at our feet. “It’s time,” she announced. 

As soon as she spoke, a deep rumble of thunder shook the forest beyond us, then crashed westward toward town. 

“Eerie, isn’t it?” Emmet said with easy familiarity, winking at me.

“Let’s go.” Rosalie nudged Emmet and they sprinted across the oversized field; she ran like cheetah. He was nearly as graceful, and just as powerful.

“Are you ready for some ball?” Alice asked, her eyes eager, bright. 

I tried to sound appropriately enthusiastic. “Go team!”

She giggled and, after mussing my hair, bounded off after the other two. 

“Shall we go down?” Esme asked in her soft, melodic voice. I nodded, and began to follow the rest of the family. Esme kept a few feet between us, and I wondered if she was still being careful not to frighten me. She matched her stride to mine without seeming impatient at the pace. 

“You don’t play with them?” I asked shyly. 

“No, I prefer to referee—I like keeping them honest,” she explained. 

“She thinks we cheat!” Emmet yelled from across the field. I assumed the volume was for my benefit, and grinned. 

“I know you cheat!” Esme called back, smiling. 

“You sound like my mom,” I laughed, surprised. 

She laughed, too. “Well, I do think of them as my children in most ways. I could never get over my mothering instincts—did Edward tell you I had lost a child?”

“No,” I murmured, stunned. 

“Yes, my first and only baby. He died just a few days after he was born, the poor tiny thing,” she sighed. “Only a couple hours after myself, you know,” she added matter-of-factly. 

“Edward just said you got sick,” I stammered. 

“Always the squeamish one.” She smiled. “I had some complications during my pregnancy. The medicine back then couldn't help me. Edward was the first of my new sons. I’ve always thought of him that way, even though he’s older than I, in one way at least.”

Esme stopped then; apparently we’d reached the edge of the field. It looked as if they’d formed teams. Edward was far out in left field, Carlisle stood between the first and second bases, and Alice held the ball, positioned on the spot that must be the pitcher’s mound. 

Emmet was swinging an aluminium bat; it whistled almost untraceable through the air. I waited for him to approach the home plate, but then I realised as he took his stance, that he was already there—farther from the pitchers mound than I would have thought possible. Jasper stood several feet behind him, catching for the other team. Of course, none of them had gloves. 

“All right,” Esme called in a clear voice, which I knew even Edward would hear, as far out as he was. “Batter up.” She turned to me. “Just call ‘em like you see ‘em, Bella.”

“Okay.” I replied. 

Alice stood straight, deceptively motionless. Her style seemed to be stealth rather than an intimidating windup. She held the ball in both hands at her waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, her right hand flicked out and the ball smacked straight into Jasper’s hand. 

“Was that a strike?” I whispered to Esme. 

“If they don’t hit it, it’s a strike,” she told me.

Jasper hurled the back back to Alice’s waiting hand. She permitted herself a brief grin. And then her hand spun out again. 

This time the bat somehow made it around in time to smash into the invisible ball. The crack of impact was shattering, thunderous; it echoed off the mountains—I immediately understood the necessity of the thunderstorm. 

The ball shot like a meteor above the field, flying deep into the surrounding forest. 

“Home fun,” I murmured. 

“Wait,” Esme cautioned, listening intently. Emmet was a blur around the bases, Carlisle shadowing him. I realised Edward was missing. 

“Out!” Esme cries in a clear voice. I stared in disbelief as Edward sprang from the fringe of the trees, ball in his upraised hand, his wide grin visible even to me. 

“Emmet hits the hardest,” Esme explained, “But Edward runs the fastest.”

The inning continued before my incredulous eyes. It was impossible to keep up with the speed at which the ball flew, the rage at which their bodies raced around the field.

I learned the other reason they waited for a thunderstorm to play when Jasper hit a ground ball toward Carlisle. Carlisle ran into the ball, and then raced Jasper to first base. When they collided, the sound was like the crash of two massive falling boulders. I jumped up in concern, but they were somehow unscathed. 

“Safe,” Esme called in a calm voice. 

Rosalie’s team was up by one—she managed to flit around the bases after tagging up on one of Emmet’s long flies—when Edward and Jasper devolved into wrestling, pausing the game. 

“What do you think?” Esme asked. 

“One thing’s for sure, I’ll never be able to sit through dull old Major League Baseball again.”

“From what my children tell me, it doesn’t sound like you did much of that before.” She laughed. 

“I’m a little disappointed,” I teased.

“Why?” She asked, instantly concerned. 

“Well, it would be nice if I could find just one thing you guys didn’t do better than everyone else on the planet.”

She flashed a beatific smile. “You give us too much credit.”

“Two if you have saved my life now...I think a level of hero-worship is unavoidable.” I joked. 

She laughed, but then Carlisle called over, telling us to resume playing. 

The score changed constantly as the game continued, and they razzed each other like any street ball players as they took turns with the lead. Occasionally Esme would call them to order. The thunder rumbled on, but we stayed dry, as Alice predicted. 

Carlisle was up to bat, Edward catching, when Alice suddenly gasped. My eyes were on Rosalie, and I saw her head snap up to look at Edward. He was staring at Alice, and something flowed between them in an instant. He was at my side before the others could ask Alice what was wrong. 

“Alice?” Esme’s voice was tense. 

“I didn’t see—I couldn’t tell,” she whispered. 

All the others were gathered by now. 

“Where is it, Alice?” Carlisle asked with the calm voice of authority. 

“They were travelling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the wrong perspective before,” she murmured.

Jasper leaned over her, his posture protective. “What changed?” he asked.

“They heard us playing, and it changed their path,” she said, contrite, as if she felt responsible for whatever had frightened her.

Seven pairs of quick eyes flashed to my face and away. 

“How soon?” Carlisle said, turning toward Edward. 

A look of intense concentration crossed his face. 

“Less than five minutes. They’re running—they want to play.” He scowled. 

“Can you make it?” Carlisle asked him, his eyes flicking toward me again. 

“No, not carrying—“ he cut short. “Besides, the last thing we need is for them to catch the scent and start hunting.”

“How many?” Emmet asked Alice. 

“Three,” she answered tersely. 

“Three!” He scoffed. “Let then come.” The steel bands of muscle flexed along his massive arms. His confidence made me grin, until I saw Rosalie glaring at both of us. My face dropped.

For a split second that seemed longer than it really was, Carlisle deliberated. Only Emmet seemed unperturbed; the rest stared at Carlisle’s face with anxious eyes. 

“Let’s just continue the game,” Carlisle finally decided. His voice was cool and level. “Alice said they were simply curious.” 

All this was said in a flurry of words that lasted only a few seconds. I had listened carefully and caught most of it, though I couldn’t hear what Esme now asked Edward with a silent vibration of her lips. I only saw the slight shake of his head and the look of relief in her face. 

“You catch, Esme,” Carlisle said, interrupting them. “I’ll call it now.” He planted himself in front of me. 

The others returned to the field, warily sweeping the dark forest with their sharp eyes. Alice and Esme seemed to orient themselves around where I stood. 

“Take your hair down,” Carlisle advised in a low, even voice. 

I obediently slid the rubber band out of my hair and shook it around me. 

“That won’t help,” Jasper called softly. “I could smell her across the field.”

“I know,” Carlisle replied. “Bella, please stay very still, keep quiet, and don’t move from my side.” 

I nodded, trying to calm the panicked beating of my heart.

The others joined the game half heartedly. The seconds ticked by; the game progressed with apathy now. No one dared to hit harder than a bunt, and Emmet, Rosalie and Jasper hovered in the infield. Now and again, despite the fear that numbed my brain, I was aware of Rosalie’s eyes on me. They were expressionless, but something about the way she held her mouth made me think she was angry. 

Edward ended up next to me at one point, waiting for his turn to bat. 

“What did Esme ask you?” I whispered. 

He hesitated for a second before he answered. “Whether they were thirsty,” he muttered unwillingly. 

I heard his breath stop, and his eyes zeroed in on right field. He took half a step, angling himself between me and what was coming. 

“I’m sorry, Bella,” he muttered. “I should have listened to you. It was stupid, irresponsible to expose you like this. I’m so sorry.”

Carlisle, Emmet, and the others turned in the same direction, hearing the sounds of passage much too faint for my ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming next time: the hunt begins! Sort of! We find out Jaspers power! Because that will be a surprise to all of you! ~~intrigue~~


	19. The Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't escape Girls in Bikinis by Poppy. It's living in my brain rent free. Can someone put out a hit on me so I can finally get some fucking peace.

They emerged one by one from the forest edge, ranging a dozen metres apart. The blond male who was first into the clearing fell back immediately, allowing the other man to move to the front. The third was a woman; from this distance, all I could see of her was that her hair was a startling shade of red. She and the blond man orientated themselves around their companion in a manner that clearly displayed who led the pack. 

They closed ranks before they continued cautiously towards the Cullens, exhibiting the natural respect of a troop of predators as it encounters a larger, unfamiliar group of its own kind. The Cullens shifted as they got closer, forming a wall between me and the newcomers. 

As they approached, I could see how different they were from the Cullens. Their walk was catlike, a gait that seemed constantly on the edge of shifting into a crouch. They dressed in the ordinary gear of backpackers: jeans and casual button down shirts in heavy, waterproof fabrics. The clothes were frayed with wear, though, and they were barefoot. The only impractical item between them was the woman’s huge fur coat, impossibly white against the dirt of her clothes. Both men had tied their hair back, but the woman’s brilliant orange mane was loose, and filled with leaves and debris from the woods. 

Their sharp eyes carefully took in the more polished, urbane stance of Carlisle, who, flanked by Emmet and Jasper, stepped guardedly forward to meet them. Without any visible communication between them, the trio straightened into a more casual, erect bearing. 

The man in front was probably the most aesthetically pleasing. His skin was dark, but lacking the warmth of Jess’; I would have attributed it to his being a vampire, but even Emmet had some semblance of colour. His hair was in dreadlocks, pulled back to expose the sharp angles of his face. He was of a medium build, hard-muscled, of course, but nothing next to Emmets brawn. He smiled an easy smile, exposing a flash of gleaming white teeth. 

The woman was wilder, her eyes shifting restlessly between the group facing her, and the loose grouping around me, her chaotic hair quivering in the slight breeze. He posture was distinctly feline. The second male hovered unobtrusively behind them, slighter than the leader, his features nondescript. His eyes, though completely still, somehow seemed the most vigilant—somehow I found his passive, noncommittal stance far more intimidating than his companions, who were more transparent in their intentions. They too, lacked the warmth that the Cullens’ skin had, diluted as it was next to humans. 

The group’s eyes were different, too. Not the gold or black I had come to expect, but a deep burgundy colour that was disturbing and sinister. 

Overall, they looked far closer to the horror stories of my childhood. Their faces were sharper, more feline, their fingers long and claw-like at their sides. While the Cullens could pass as human, the newcomers couldn’t hope to. They were the monsters of Jacobs myths, the shadows that haunted children’s nightmares. While the Cullens were undead, this group was, unequivocally, dead. 

The black man, still smiling, stepped toward Carlisle. His steps made no sounds on the rain soaked ground.

“We thought we heard a game,” he purred, the slightest of French accents audible in his voice. “I’m Laurent, and these are Victoria and James.” He gestured to the other vampires. 

“I’m Carlisle. This is my family, Emmet and Jasper, Rosalie, Esme and Alice, Edward and Bella.” He pointed us out in groups, deliberately not calling attention to individuals. I felt a shock when he said my name. 

Laurent’s eyes flickered between our group, pausing for a moment on Jasper. I thought I saw disgust flash across his face, but it was gone as soon as it appeared. 

“Do you have room for more players?” He asked sociably, voice giving nothing away. 

Carlisle matched Laurent’s ostensibly friendly tone. “Actually we were just finishing up. But we’d certainly be interested another time. Are you planning to stay in the area for long?” 

“We’re headed north, in fact, but we were curious to see who was in the neighbourhood. We haven’t run into any company for a long time.” Again, his eyes flicked to Jasper. 

“Yes, this region is typically empty except for us and the occasional visitor, like yourselves. Not many nomads come our way.” 

The tense atmosphere had quickly subsided into a casual conversation. I couldn’t quite believe that the tension had dissipated so fast; only a few minutes ago we’d been preparing for a fight. The warped appearance of the trio prevented my from relaxing though, despite the sudden waves of calm that almost felt forced in their potency. 

“What’s your hunting range?” Laurent asked casually.

Carlisle ignored the assumption behind the inquiry. “The Olympic Range here, up and down the Coast Ranges on occasion. We keep a permanent residence nearby. There’s another settlement like ours up near Denali.”

Laurent rocked back on his heels slightly, eyes narrowed. 

“Permanent? How do you manage that?” There was honest curiosity in his voice, but an undercurrent of tension had appeared. 

“Why don’t you come back to our home with us, and we can talk comfortably?” Carlisle invited. “It’s rather a long story—and I imagine you would appreciate a chance to rest.”

James and Victoria exchanged a surprised look at the mention of the word ‘home’, but Laurent controlled his expression better.

“That sounds very interesting, and welcome.” His smile was genial. “We’ve been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven’t had the chance to clean up in a while.” His eyes moved appreciatively over Carlisle’s refined appearance. 

“Please don’t take offence, but we’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from hunting in this immediate area. We have to stay inconspicuous, you understand,” Carlisle explained. “If you plan on continuing north, our friends would appreciate it if you extended the same courtesy, once you enter their territory.” 

“Of course.” Laurent nodded. “We certainly won’t encroach on your land. We just ate outside of Seattle, anyway,” he laughed. A shiver ran up my spine. 

“We’ll show you the way if you’d like to run with us—Emmet and Alice, you can go with Edward and Bella to get the jeep.” he added casually. 

Three things seemed to happen simultaneously while Carlisle was speaking. My hair ruffled with the slight breeze, Edward stiffened, and the second male, James, suddenly whipped his head around, scrutinising me, his nostrils flaring. 

A swift rigidity fell on all of them as James lurched one step forward into a crouch. Emmet bared his teeth, crouching in defence, a feral snark ripping from his throat. It was nothing like the joking sounds I’d heard him make before; it was the single most menacing thing I had ever heard, and chills ran from the crown of my head to the back of my heels. 

“What’s this?” Laurent exclaimed in open surprise. Neither James nor Emmet relaxed their aggressive poses. James feinted slightly to the side, and Emmet shifted in response. 

“She’s with us.” Carlisle’s firm rebuff was directed towards James. Laurent seemed to catch my scent less powerfully than James, but awareness now dawned on his face. 

“You brought a snack?” He asked, his expression incredulous as he took an involuntary step forward. 

Emmet snarled even more ferociously, harshly, his lip curling high above his glistening, bared teeth. Despite his predatory body language, his snarl resembled a grin. Laurent stepped back again, hands raised in a defensive gesture. 

“I said, she’s with us,” Carlisle corrected in a hard voice. 

Laurent seemed to realise. “Ah,” He said, voice far more respectful. He inclined his head. “A subjugate. Of course. The Volturi have a similar practice—as your residence is also permanent, I assume you have a relation?”

“No.” Carlisle replied. “We are not associated with the Italians. And she is our _guest_. Our family does not believe in the use of subjugates.” 

“But she’s _human_ ,” Laurent protested. The words were not at all aggressive, merely astounded. 

“Yes.” Carlisle made no attempt to explain. Emmet was very much evident by his side, his eyes on James. James slowly straightened out of his crouch, but his eyes never left me, his nostrils still wide. The Cullens stayed tensed in front of me. 

When Laurent spoke, his tone was soothing—trying to defuse the sudden hostility. “It appears we have a lot to learn about each other.”

“Indeed.” Carlisle’s voice was still cool. 

“But we’d like to accept your invitation.” His eyes flickered towards me and back to Carlisle. “And, of course, we will not harm the human girl. We won’t hunt in your range, as I said.”

James snapped his head towards Laurent, glaring in disbelief and aggravation. When Laurent ignored him, maintaining eye contact with Carlisle, the blond turned to exchange a brief look with Victoria, whose eyes still flickered edgily from face to face. 

Carlisle measured Laurent’s open expression for a moment before he spoke. “We’ll show you the way. Jasper, Rosalie, Esme?” he called. They gathered together, blocking me from view as the converged. Alice was instantly at my side, and Emmet fell back slowly, his eyes locked on James as he backed toward us. 

“Let’s go, Bella.” Alice’s voice was low and concerned. 

This whole time I’d been rooted in place, terrified into absolute immobility. Alice had to put her hand on my arm and tug gently to break my trance. Emmet and Edward were close behind us, hiding me. I saw Rosalie shoot a concerned glance in our direction, before turning back to the visitors. I stumbled alongside Alice, still stunned with fear. I couldn’t hear if the main group had left yet. Edward’s impatience was almost tangible as we moved at human speed to the forest edge. 

Once we were into the trees, he slung me over his back without breaking stride. I was till too shocked to struggle, and gripped as tightly as possible as he took off, the others close on his heels. I kept my head down, but my eyes, wide with fright, wouldn’t close. They plunged through the now-black forest like wraiths. The sense of exhilaration that had seemed to possess Edward earlier when he was running was completely absent, replaced by a fury that consumed him and drove him still faster. Even with me on his back, the others trailed behind. 

We reached the jeep in an impossibly short time, and Edward slowed as he flung me unceremoniously into the backseat. 

“Strap her in,” he ordered Emmet, who slid in beside me.

Alice was already in the front seat, and Edward was starting the engine. It roared to life and we swerved backward, spinning around to face the winding road. Alice looked back at me in concern, eyes skating over me while Emmet tightened the harness around my prone body. 

The jolting trip was much worse this time, and the darkness only made it more frightening. Emmet and Alice both glared out the window, eyes alert and wary.

We hit the main road, and though our speed increased, I could see much better where we were going. We were headed south, away from Forks. 

“Where are we going?” I asked, the fog beginning to fade from my mind. 

No one answered. No one even looked at me. 

“For fuck sake, Edward! Where are you taking me?”

“We have to get you away from here—far away—now.” He didn’t look back, his eyes in the road. The speedometer read a hundred and five miles an hour. 

“Turn around! You’re not taking me fucking anywhere!” I shouted. I struggled with the stupid harness, tearing at the straps. 

“Emmet,” Edward said grimly. 

I looked over to Emmet, panicked, but he stayed still. 

“Edward...” He said, voice uncertain. “This doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

Edward didn’t respond, but his hands went white-knuckled on the wheel. 

“Edward, you fucking asshole! You’re not taking me somewhere else!”

“I have to, Bella, now please be quiet.”

“I won’t! You’re not taking me somewhere again—not without telling why the fuck we’re going! Charlie will call the FBI! They’ll be all over your family!”

“Calm down, Bella.” His voice was cold, and patronising. “We’ve been there before.”

“Oh, fuck off!” I struggled violently, with total futility against the harness.

Alice spoke for the first time. “Edward, pull over.”

He flashed her a hard look, and then sped up. 

“Edward, lets just talk this through.”

“You don’t understand.” He roared in frustration. I’d never heard his voice so loud; deafening in the confines of the jeep. 

The speedometer neared one hundred and fifteen.

“No I fucking don’t!” I yelled back, not nearly as intimidating. “Because you’re not fucking _telling me_!”

“He’s a tracker, Alice, did you _see_ that?” He continued to bellow, ignoring me. “He’s a tracker!”

I felt Emmet stiffen next to me, and I wondered at his reaction to the word. It meant something more to the three of them than it did to me: I wanted to understand, but they gave me no opening to ask. 

“Pull over, Edward.” Alice’s tone was reasonable, but there was a ring of authority in it I’d never heard before. 

The speedometer inched past one-twenty. 

“Do it, Edward.”

“Listen to me, Alice. I saw his mind. Tracking is his passion, his obsession—and he wants her, Alice, _her_ specifically. He begins the hunt tonight.”

“He doesn’t know where—“

He interrupted her. “How long do you think it will take him to cross her sent in town? His plan was already set before the words were out of Laurent’s mouth.”

I gasped, knowing where my scent would lead. “Charlie! You can’t leave him there! Take me back to my dad!” The car sped up again, and it only further enraged me. “Tell me what the fuck is going on, and listen to what I say, instead of dragging me around like a _child_!”

“She’s right,” Emmet said. 

The car slowed slightly. 

“Let’s just look at our options for a minute,” Alice coaxed. 

The car slowed down, more noticeably, and then suddenly we screeched to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. I flew against the harness, and then slammed back into the seat.

“There are no options,” Edward hissed. 

“That’s not your decision to make!” I yelled. 

He ignored me completely. 

“We have to take her back.” Emmet said, voice hard. 

“No.” Edward was absolute.

“He’s no match got us, Edward. He won’t be able to touch her. Taking her now will just make it harder for the whole family.”

“He’ll wait.”

Emmet grinned. “I can wait, too.”

“You didn’t see—you don’t understand. Once he commits to a hunt, he’s unshakeable. We’d have to kill him.”

Emmet didn’t seem upset by the idea. “That’s an option.”

“And the female. She’s with him. If it turns into a fight, the leader will go with them too.”

“There are enough of us.”

“Edward, you can’t fucking choose for me because you think you know better.” I interrupted, still furious at his complete disregard for my opinions. 

He turned to snarl at me. “This isn’t a stupid arranged marriage Bella. You don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Then fucking explain it to me!” I bellowed. “Don’t argue that I don’t understand when you’re perfectly capable of telling me!”

He opened his mouth to retort, but I talked over him. “And admitting that it’s an arranged marriage, even after I’ve told you that’s disgusting, only emphasises that you don’t care about my feelings! You just can’t handle not being in control!”

“There’s another option.” Alice said quietly. 

Edward turned on her in fury, his voice a blistering snarl. “There—is—no—other—option!”

Emmet and I both stared at him in shock, but Alice seemed unsurprised. The silence lasted for a long minute as Edward and Alice stared each other down. 

I broke it. “Does anyone want to hear my plan?”

“No,” Edward growled. Alice glared at him, finally provoked. 

“Listen,” I snapped. “You take me back.”

“No,” he interrupted. 

I glared at him and continued. “You take me back. I tell my dad I’m going back to Phoenix. I pack my bags. We wait till this tracker is watching, and then we run. Hell follow us and leave Charlie alone. Charlie won’t call the FBI on your family. Then you can take me and damned place you want. As long as you tell me.”

They stared at me, stunned. 

“It’s not a bad idea, really.” Emmet’s surprise was definitely an insult. 

“It might work—and we simply can’t leave her father unprotected. You know that,” Alice said. 

Everyone looked at Edward. 

“It’s too dangerous—I don’t want him within a hundred miles of her.”

Emmet was supremely confident. “Edward, he’s not getting through us.”

Alice thought for a minute. “I don’t see him attacking. He’ll try to wait for us to leave her alone.”

“It won’t take long for him to realise that’s not going to happen.”

I snorted. “Oh, so _now_ you don’t trust Alice’s visions.” He glared at me. “Take me home.”

Edward presses his fingers to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Take. Me. Home.” I repeated. 

He didn’t look up. When he spoke, his voice sounded worn. 

“You’re leaving tonight, whether the tracker sees it or not. You tell Charlie that you can’t stand another minute in Forks. Tell him whatever story works. Pack the first things your hands touch, and then get in your truck. I don’t care what he says to you. You have fifteen minutes. Do you hear me? Fifteen minutes.”

The jeep rumbled to life, and he spun us around, the tires squealing. The needle on the speedometer started to race up the dial. 

“I have an hour.” I snapped. 

“What?” 

“An hour. I’m not running out on my dad to make you feel better.”

“No. You need to be quick, so he doesn’t find you.” Edwards voice allowed no room for argument. 

“He’s going to find me anyway. I’m not letting what could be my last conversation with my dad end in a screaming match because you want to be a bitch.”

I heard a huff next to me, and turned to see Emmet repressing a smirk. A few minutes passed in silence, other than the roar of the engine. Then Edward spoke again. 

“This is how it’s going to happen. When we get to the house, if the tracker is not there. I will work her to the door. Then she has an hour.” He glared at me in rearview mirror. “Emmet, you take the outside of the house. Alice, you get the truck. I’ll be inside as long as she is. After she’s out, you two take the jeep home and tell Carlisle.”

“No way,” Emmet broke in. “I’m with you.”

“Think it through, Emmet. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

“Until we know how far this is going to go, I’m with you.”

Edward sighed. “If the tracker _is_ there,” he continued grimly. “We keep driving.”

“We’re going to make it there before him,” Alice said confidently. 

Edward seemed to accept that. I rolled my eyes. Funny how his trust in her visions fluctuated wildly, depending on whether or not they contradicted him.

“What are we going to do with the jeep?” She asked. 

His voice had a hard edge. “You’re driving it home.”

“No, I’m not,” she said calmly. 

Edward started growling something too fast for me to understand, but it seemed a lot like a string of profanities. I imagined Rosalie would find it very entertaining—I was still too frustrated by him to see the humour in it.

“We can’t all fit in my truck.” I said. 

Edward didn’t appear to hear me. 

“I think you should let me go alone,” I continued. 

He heard that. 

“Bella, please just do this my way,” he said between clenched teeth. 

“Charlie’s not an idiot,” I countered. “If half of your family has left town tomorrow, he’s going to be suspicious.” 

“That’s irrelevant. We’ll make sure he’s safe, and that’s all that matters.”

“Then what about this tracker? He saw that Carlisle sent you three with me. He’ll know it’s because you’re the ones closest to me. He’s going to think you’re with me, wherever you are.”

Emmet looked at me, insultingly surprised again. “Edward, listen to her,” he urged. “I think she’s right.”

“Yes, she is,” Alice agreed. 

“I won’t do that.” Edward’s voice was icy. “She won’t be safe on her own.”

“Emmet should definitely stay, too,” I continued. “He definitely got an eyeful of Emmet.”

“What?” Emmett turned on me. 

“You’ll get a better crack at him if you stay,” Alice agreed. 

Edward steed at her incredulously. “You think I should let her go alone?”

“Of course not,” Alice said. “Jasper and I will take her.”

“Alice, he’ll be expecting you to be with me. That defeats the point.” I argued. 

She barely looked at me. “I’ll be able to see if he comes for us.”

“I can’t do that,” Edward repeated, but this time there was a trace of defeat in his voice. The logic was working on him. 

I tried to be persuasive. “Hang out here for a week. Let Charlie see you haven’t kidnapped me and keep this James on a wild goose chase. Make sure he’s completely off me trail. Then come and meet us. Take a roundabout route, of course, and then Jasper and Alice can go home. They’ll help the others kill him.”

I could see him beginning to consider it. 

“Meet you where?”

“Phoenix.” Of course. 

“No, he’ll hear that’s where you’re going,” he said impatiently, the unspoken _idiot_ clear in his voice. 

“And you’ll make it look like that’s a ruse, obviously.” I matched his patronising tone. “He’ll know that we’ll know he’s listening. He’ll never believe I’m actually going where I say I’m going.”

“She’s diabolical,” Emmet chuckled. 

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“There are several million people in Phoenix,” I informed him frostily. 

“It’s not that hard to find a phone book.”

“I won’t go home.”

“Oh?” He inquired, a dangerous note in his voice. 

“I’m quite old enough to get my own place.”

“Edward, we’ll be with her,” Alice reminded him. 

“What are _you_ going to do in _Phoenix_?” He asked her scathingly. 

“Stay indoors.”

“I kind of like it.” Emmet was thinking about cornering James, no doubt. 

“Shut up Emmet.” Edward snapped. 

“Look, if we try to take him down while she’s still around, there’s a much better chance that someone will get hurt—she’ll get hurt, or one of us will, trying to protect her. Now if we get him alone...” Emmet trailed off with a slow smile. I was right. 

The jeep was crawling slowly along now as we drove into town. Despite my brave talk, I could feel the hairs on my arms standing up. I thought about Charlie, alone in the house, and tried to be courageous.

“Bella.” Edward said, voice quiet but cutting. Alice and Emmet looked at him, tensed. “If you let anything happen to yourself—anything at all—I’m holding you personally responsible. Do you understand that?”

I felt the urge to snarl. Asshole. I chose not to respond, glaring at him in the rearview mirror instead. He sighed, turning to Alice. 

“Can Jasper handle this?”

“Give him some credit, Edward. He’s been doing very, very well, all things considered.”

“Can _you_ handle this?” He asked. 

And graceful little Alice pulled back her lips in a horrific grimace and let loose with a guttural growl that had me cowering against the seat in terror. 

Edward smiled at her. “But keep your opinions to yourself,” he muttered suddenly. 

Emmet grinned and turned to me. “Welcome to the family, Bella.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay lads idk how many of you are aware, but I’m rewriting all four books, not just twilight. Please rant in the comments about what you disliked about the next three: I’ve got broad plot alterations down, but I just want people’s opinions on what sucked, so I can try to change it.
> 
> You can also hit me up on tumblr, my username there is molly_mauler . I’ll post on there when I’ve updated, in case there are others platform problems in the future! Talk to me about whatever you want! I need more twilight buddies ;)  
> 
> 
> Coming soon, on a bank of violets: Bella heads back to Phoenix and Blair is plot-relevant!


	20. Goodbyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've forgotten to say this so far because I'm an idiot, but thank you to my wonderful, fantastic, amazing beta reader for helping me with this fic! And for listening to my many, many 'what if I did this' questions about the plot. You're incredible, and I'm so lucky you agreed to help me out!

Charlie was waiting up for me. All the house lights were on. My mind was blank as I tried to think of an excuse to leave. Thanks to Edward, all I could think of was unnecessarily cruel barbs that would make Charlie let me go—but break his heart in the process.

Edward pulled up slowly, staying well back from the light of the porch. All three of them were ramrod straight in their seats, and I could see their concentration. The subtle twitches at things I couldn’t hope to see and hear told me that they were listening carefully, looking through every shadow, catching every scent, searching for something out of place. The engine cut off, and I sat, motionless, as they continued to listen.

“He’s not here,” Edward said tensely. “Let’s go.”

Emmet reached over to help me get out of the harness. “Don’t worry, Bella,” he said in a low but cheerful voice, “we’ll take care of things quickly.”

I felt moisture filling up my eyes as I looked at Emmet. I barely knew him, and yet, not knowing when I would see him again after tonight was devastating. I knew this was just a faint taste of the goodbyes I would have to survive in the next hour, and the thought made the tears begin to spill.

“Alice, Emmet.” Edward’s voice was a command. They slipped soundlessly into the darkness, instantly disappearing. Edward opened my door, and I climbed out, pointedly ignoring his outstretched hand. He moved as if to embrace me, but I slid away, and walked swiftly toward the front door. He followed, eyes flickering between the trees. 

“One hour,” he warned under his breath. 

“Shut up.” I sniffled, trying to compose myself.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out, preparing to send off a quick apology to Jess, when I saw who it was from. 

**That one. 19:17**  
_Fuck. I’m in hospital. Appendicectomy. I hate it. Call me tomorrow._

My stomach dropped. Blair had hated hospitals for as long as I’d known her. I sent an immediate confirmation, before looking up at Edwards anticipatory face and stopping on the porch. 

“I want you to listen to what I say to Charlie. I want you to listen, and realise that he is my _family_. I have a life outside of you; I won’t mindlessly sacrifice it because you tell me to. I am your friend, but you do not have that authority.”

Edward blinked, shocked into silence. I took advantage of it, and slipped into the house before he could say another word. 

“Dad?” I called out. 

Charlie had been hovering in the living room, and he was already on his feet, concern written on his face when he noticed the tears. “Bella? Are you alright?”

“Dad, I need to go back to Phoenix.” I hugged myself, trying not to look as scared as I felt. 

“Bella, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Charlie was next to me now, arms open and ready to take me in. I melted against him. 

“I’m fine it’s just...” I hiccoughed. “There’s a lot happening.” I started to let the tears run freely. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” He rubbed my back slowly.

“Blair’s in hospital.” I sniffled against his chest. 

“What?” I could hear the panic in his voice. He’d never met Blair, but she’d been my friend as long as I could remember.

“No, nothing bad—she’s just getting her appendix out. But I miss her, and I want to be there for here. I’m so homesick, dad.” I felt him stiffen against me, and immediately relax, trying to hide his reaction. I rushed to correct myself. “Not that this isn’t home. I love it here, and I love you, it’s just so different. And I miss Blair, and the sun, and the house, and it’s so quiet and small and dark here and sometimes it’s cosy but now I just can’t _breathe_.” 

He hummed quietly. “Are you sure, Bella? You don’t have to lie to me. If you don’t like it here just say, I’ll call Renée—“

My stomach dropped, and I pulled back. “No, dad. I don’t want to leave, I don’t, but it’s just so strange here and I miss my friends.”

He nodded gently. “I get it, Bells, I do. We can go for a trip there soon, and you can see your friend.”

I rubbed the tears from my cheeks, trying to smile. “Thanks Dad, but I...I don’t know, I want to see her now? So much has happened since I’ve left and I’m missing it all. I just want to be there for her.” I hated lying to Charlie, and I was completely crap at it anyway, so I tried to stay as close to the truth as possible. What I didn’t mention was the almost constant stream of texting between us. 

Charlie finally let me go, walking into the living room. “Bells I understand, but there’s no way you can just leave now.” He grabbed a box of tissues and held them out to me. “You’ve got school, and you can’t go by yourself.”

I steeled myself, ready to beg. “But Dad, exams are over, its nearly spring break, we can just say I’m visiting family.”

He sighed. “Bella, I’m not going to lie to your school so you can visit a friend.”

“Blair is family, Dad. You know that. It’s not lying. _Please_ , my grades are good, and I’ve behaved, and done all the chores, I just need a break for a few days to go home.”

“Bella, doing the chores is not a valid reason for me to allow you time off school.” He was sounding less sympathetic now.

“That’s not what I meant. I just mean, I’ve been so good, and this is one thing, and I just want to be there for her. I don’t want to comfort her over texts, or emails, I want to hug her and tell her it’s going to be okay.”

“Sweetheart, she’s having her appendix out, she’s not riddled with cancer.” 

“Dad, she’s _terrified_ of hospitals. It’s worse than me with blood. She can’t stand them, and she’s going to be there for days.”

Charlie sighed. I’d got my stubbornness from somewhere, and he knew I wasn’t going to give up. 

“Bella you can’t swan off—“ I rolled my eyes. “to Phoenix whenever you like and defend it by saying you do your chores.” 

“Dad. One, don’t make bad jokes. Two, this is a one time thing. I want to be there for my friend. Please.” 

“Bells.” He tilted his head and looked at me reproachably.

“Dad.” I tried to match his tone. 

“Bella, this would set a precedent. I can’t let my daughter do whatever she wants. As a father, and as Chief of Police, that’s unacceptable.”

“Dad, all I’m asking is a few days to visit Blair, make sure she’s okay.” I prayed it wouldn’t be any longer. “I just need a break to go home, see everything, and I’ll be back and on my best behaviour before you know it.”

“Bella, you can’t leave now. It’s dark and it’s not safe to drive.” 

“I can sleep in the truck if I’m tired.”

“That’s not a good idea Bella. Just wait, wait until morning, and think it over.” He was pleading with me now. I felt a flash of guilt, but stomped it down with thoughts of what could happen to him if I didn’t leave. 

“Dad I need to go as soon as possible. Blair needs me. I’ll text regularly, you can keep checking up on me, and Mom has find my phone on for me.”

“Your truck might not make it. What if you break down?”

“Edward said I could take his car. He was with me when I got the text.”

“Why would he do that?” Charlie was suspicious. 

“The Cullens have loads of cars, Dad, and he’s my friend. He wants me to be safe.”

He was running out of arguments. “Bella, I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Please, dad. I just need to be there for her. You can ground me when I get back if you want.”

“I don’t want to ground you for seeing your friend, Bella. I’d ground you for running out on me and not telling me anything.” He sat down on the sofa, looking worn. “Which I know you’ll do if I don’t let you go.”

I grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling. He sighed. “Fine. You can go. But I want regular texts on where you are and what you’re doing. Take Edward’s car, and make sure the tank is full. You can stay until Blair is out of hospital—and no later. I want you back up as soon as she’s alright.” 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Not a lie. 

“Alright. Pack properly.”

I nodded eagerly, aware that my hour was running out. “Of course, Dad.” 

I ran upstairs, darting into the bathroom to grab my toothbrush.

“Bella?” He called up after me. “I _will_ sic Renée on you if you don’t look after yourself!”

I laughed loudly, trying to ignore the wave of fear his comment triggered. “Next you’ll tell me you’ll send the whole police department after me!” I called back. I went into my room, unsurprised to see Edward waiting for me in the corner. 

“You and I both know that your mother is scarier than the force!” I snickered at Charlie’s joke, trying to ignore the concerned glances Edward was shooting at me. 

I rushed around the room, stuffing random clothes into an old hiking backpack that had been hidden in the back of my wardrobe. I was careful to grab some books, unsure of how long we’d be waiting in Phoenix. Edward followed my around, and I had to continuously slap away his hands as he tried to help. 

I zipped up the bag and threw it over my shoulder. “Go wait in the truck.” I whispered to Edward. 

He vanished out the window, and I made my way downstairs. Charlie was waiting by the door.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I just really need to see her.”

He nodded, pulling me into another hug. “‘Course you do Bells. I understand. Stay safe and make sure to call me.”

I nodded against his chest, trying not to think about when I would next see him again. 

“Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Bella.”

He gave me a squeeze before letting me go. I unlocked the door and stepped outside. 

“Do you have keys for you moms house?”

“Yeah. Bye, Dad.” I hoped he didn’t hear the wobble in my voice.

“Bye, Bella.”

I walked quickly to the truck, very aware that James could be lurking in the trees, but not wanting to alert Charlie to any threat. I wrenched the door open, and threw my bag onto Edward’s lap next to me. The key was in the ignition. 

I waved at Charlie, wishing more than anything that I could explain everything to him right then, knowing I would never be able to. I gunned the engine and pulled out. 

“Pull over,” Edward said as the house, and Charlie, disappeared behind us. 

“I can drive,” I said through the tears pouring down my cheeks. 

“You won’t be able to find the house.” He said calmly. 

I growled in frustration and slammed on the breaks. He pulled me across his lap, wrenching my hands free of the wheel, and suddenly he was in the drivers seat. I’d barely had a chance to react. 

“You shouldn’t drive when you’re crying.” 

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. He was right, but that didn’t stop me from hating it. 

He started up the engine again, pulling us back out into the road. Lights flared suddenly behind us. I stared out the back window, eyes wide in horror. 

“It’s just Alice,” he reassured me. He reached out to rub my shoulder comfortingly. 

My mind was filled with the image of Charlie in the doorway. “The tracker?”

“He heard the end of your performance,” Edward said grimly. 

“Charlie?” I asked in dread. 

“The tracker followed us. He’s running behind us now.” 

My body went cold. 

“Can we outrun him?”

“No.” But he sped up as he spoke. The trucks engine whined in protest. 

My plan suddenly didn’t feel so brilliant anymore. 

I was staring back at Alice’s headlights when the truck shuddered and a dark shadow sprung up outside the window. 

My bloodcurdling scream lasted a fraction of a second before Edward’s hand clamped down on my mouth. 

“It’s Emmet!” 

He released my mouth, and went back to rubbing my shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Bella,” he promised. “You’re going to be safe.” 

We raced through the quiet town toward the north highway. 

“I didn’t realise you were still so bored with small-town life,” he said conversationally, and I knew he was trying to distract me. “It seemed like you were adjusting fairly well—especially recently.” 

“I guess vampires just aren’t as interesting as the films suggested. My life’s been incredibly dull since I met you.”

He laughed lightly. “That it has been.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes, my heart pounding faster and faster, the further away we drove from Charlie. Edward glanced over in concern. 

“Bella, it’s going to be all right.”

“I don’t want to leave him alone,” I whispered. 

“You’ll see him soon,” He said, voice gentle. “Don’t forget this was your idea.”

“It was the best idea—of course it was mine.” My voice was full of false bravado. 

His answering smile was bleak and disappeared immediately. 

“Why did this happen?” I asked, my voice catching. “Why me?”

He stared blankly at the road ahead. “It’s my fault—I was a fool to expose you like that.” The rage in his voice was directed internally. 

“That’s not what I meant,” I insisted. “I was there, big deal. That’s the least of our problems. It didn’t bother the other two. Why did this James decide to kill _me_? There are people all over the place, why me?”

He hesitated, thinking before he answered.

“I got a good look at his mind tonight,” he began in a low voice. “I’m not sure if there’s anything I could have done to avoid this, once he saw you. It is partially your fault.” His voice was wry. “If you didn’t smell so appealingly luscious he might not have bothered.”

“So it’s my fault for being so irresistible?” I snapped. 

“No—of course not. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. But he’s a tracker. He’s not used to being thwarted, no matter how insignificant the object. He thinks of himself as a hunter and nothing else. His existence is consumed with tracking, and a challenge is all he asks of life. When we defended you...suddenly we presented him with a beautiful challenge—a large clan of strong fighters all bent in protecting one vulnerable element. You wouldn’t believe how euphoric he is now. It’s his favourite game, and we’ve just made it his most exciting game ever.” His tone was full of disgust. 

He paused a moment. 

“But if we had stood by, he would have killed you right then,” he said with hopeless frustration. 

“I thought I didn’t smell the same to the others as I do to you. That you’re the only one who posed a real threat.” 

“You don’t. But that doesn’t mean that you aren’t still a temptation to every one of them. If you _had_ appealed to the tracker—or any of them—the same way you appeal to me, it would have meant a fight right there.”

I shuddered. 

“I don’t think we have any choice but to kill him now,” he muttered. “Carlisle won’t like it.”

I could hear the tires cross the bridge, though I couldn’t see the river in the dark. I knew we were getting close. I had to ask him now.

“How can you kill a vampire?”

He glanced at me with unreadable eyes and his voice was suddenly harsh. “The only way to be sure is to tear him to shreds, and then burn the pieces.”

“And the other two will fight with him?”

“The woman will. I’m not sure about Laurent. They don’t have a very strong bond—he’s only with them for convenience. He was embarrassed by James in the meadow.”

“But James and the woman—they’ll try to kill all of you?” I asked, voice raw. 

“Bella, don’t you dare waste time worrying about us. Your only concern is keeping yourself safe and—please, please—trying not to be reckless.”

“Is he still following?”

“Yes. He won’t attack the house, though. Not tonight.”

He turned off onto the invisible drive, with Alice following behind. 

We drove right up to the house. The lights inside were bright, but they did little to alleviate the blackness of the encroaching forest. Emmet has my door open before the truck was stopped; he pulled me out of the seat, tucked me like a football into his vast chest, and ran me through the door.

We burst into the large white room, Edward and Alice at our sides. All of them were there; they were already on their feet at the sound of our approach. Laurent stood in their midst. I could hear low growls rumble deep in Emmet’s throat as he set me down next to Alice. 

“He’s tracking us,” Alice announced, glaring accusingly at Laurent. 

Laurent’s face was unhappy. “I was afraid of that.”

She danced to Jasper’s side and whispered in his ear; her lips quivered with the speed of her silent speech. They flew up the stairs together. Rosalie watched them, and then moved quickly to Emmet’s side. Her beautiful eyes were intense and—when they flickered unwillingly to my face—furious. 

“What will he do?” Carlisle asked Laurent in an eerily calm voice. 

“I’m sorry,” he answered. “I was afraid, when your family defended her, that it would set him off.”

“Can you stop him?”

Laurent shook his head. “Nothing stood James when he gets started.”

“We’ll stop him,” Emmet promised. There was no doubt what he meant. 

“You can’t bring him down. I’ve never seen anything like him in my three hundred years. He’s absolutely lethal. Even more so than your _confederate_ ,” he spat out the word, and I blinked in confusion, unsure what he meant. “That’s why I joined his coven.” 

_His_ coven, I thought. Of course. The show of leadership in the clearing had been merely that: a show.

Laurent was shaking his head. He glanced at me, perplexed, and back to Carlisle. “Are you sure it’s worth it?”

Carlisle looked gravely at Laurent. “We have accepted Bella into our family. Her death would affect us deeply—both emotionally, and publicly. Our life here would be at risk.” He paused. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to make a choice.”

Laurent understood. He deliberated for a moment. His eyes took in every face, and finally swept the bright room. 

“I’m intrigued by the life you’ve created here. But I won’t get in the middle of this. I bear none of you any enmity, but I won’t go up against James. I think I will head north—to that clan in Denali.” He hesitated. “Don’t underestimate James. He’s got a brilliant mind and unparalleled senses. He’s every bit as comfortable in the human world as you seem to be, and he won’t come at you head on. I’m sorry for what’s been unleashed here. Truly sorry.” He bowed his head, but I saw him slicker another puzzled look at me. 

“Go in peace,” was Carlisle’s formal answer. 

Laurent took another long look around himself, and then he hurried out the door.

The silence lasted less than a second. 

“What the _fuck_ , Edward?” Rosalie exploded, whirling toward him. I flinched at the venom in her tone. Emmet grabbed her arm, but she shook him off. “This is why you don’t bring humans into the family! It endangers _everyone_!”

Edward didn’t respond, just stood there, arms dangling morosely by his sides. 

“Rose, honey, he cares about Bella. He clearly didn’t mean for this to happen. He just wanted you to be happy.” Esme’s voice was placating, her hand raised defensively. 

“And yet he ignored both me and Bella saying that we didn’t want that! He has no authority to decide what’s best for us!” Rosalie’s voice was practically a snarl. 

I shuffled, not appreciating the uncomfortable looks the family was sending my way. 

“He wanted you to be happy, Rose. Both him and Alice thought Bella would be good for you.” Carlisle was remarkably calm in the face of his daughters anger. 

“Oh, you don’t get to talk, Carlisle!” To my surprise, Rose didn’t hesitate in directing her anger at him. “You turned me _for_ Edward. My human life ended because I was forced into a relationship, I became a vampire because you wanted to force me into a relationship, and despite me hating everything that has come from forced relationships _you all tried to do it again_!” 

Edward had carefully avoided giving information about Rosalie’s life, but from the shifty looks on everyone’s faces, what she was saying rang true. Her reluctance to interact with me was beginning to make sense. 

“Now, as a result of your complete disregard for both mine and Bella’s feelings, both her and her fathers life are at risk.”

Edward nodded. “You’re right, Rose. I’m very sorry to both of you, for my actions and the harm it has caused.” 

Rosalie snorted derisively. “Too little, too late, asshole. I can’t speak for Bella, but my forgiveness is conditional on her survival.” She glanced over at me. 

I smiled weakly. “The same goes for me. I can’t really forgive you if I’m dead.”

Rosalie nodded, smiling gently back at me. It was strange contrast to her anger from just a moment before “Exactly.” She looked back at Edward. “So what’s the plan, genius?” 

Emmet stepped in. “We’ll lead him off, and then Jasper and Alice will run her south.”

“And then?”

Emmet’s tone was deadly. “As soon as Bella is clear, we hunt him.”

“I guess there’s no other choice,” Carlisle agreed, his face grim. “How close is he?”

Esme was already moving; her hand touched an inconspicuous keypad on the wall, and with a groan, huge metal shutters began sealing up the glass wall. I gaped. 

“About three miles out past the river,” Edward replied. “He’s circling around to meet up with the female.” He turned to Esme. “Esme, take her upstairs and trade clothes.”

“No,” Rosalie interjected. “I’m closer in size. Makes more sense for me to do it.”

Edward nodded, clearly reluctant to argue with her after her outburst. “Of course.”

Rosalie was at my side in half a heartbeat, swinging me up easily into her arms, and dashing me upstairs before I could gasp in shock. 

“What are we doing?” I asked breathlessly as she set me down in a dark room somewhere off the second-story hall. 

“Trying to confuse the smell. It won’t work for long, but it should help you get out of town before he notices you.” I could hear her clothes falling to the floor, and desperately tried to suppress my thoughts. No matter how reluctant I was to date her, having Rosalie strip just inches away from me was not good for my heart-rate. 

“Thank you,” I said, trying to ignore the pounding in my chest as I pulled down my jeans. 

“For what?” Her hands were pulling my shirt over my head. She handed me something that felt like a top.

“Yelling at Edward. And the rest of them.” I struggled to get my arms through the right holes of the shirt. As soon as I was done she handed me her pants. 

I could hear the smile in her voice. “No problem. I’ve been on the receiving end of their meddling for years—you build up an intolerance.” 

I yanked the jeans on. “I’m sorry they meddled in the first place.” 

She pulled me out of the room when I was done, already in my clothes. 

“It’s not your fault.” She murmured. 

Alice was waiting for us by the stairs, a small leather bag in one hand. They each grabbed one of my elbows and half-carried me as they flew down the stairs. 

The tension downstairs was less palpable than it had been before. Edward and Emmet were ready to leave, Emmet carrying a heavy-looking backpack over his shoulder. Carlisle was handing something small to Esme. He turned and handed Alice the same thing—it was a tiny silver cell phone. 

“Esme and Rosalie will be taking your truck, Bella,” he told me as he passed. I nodded, glancing warily at Rosalie, concerned. She was looking at Carlisle with an expression of distaste. 

“Alice, Jasper—take the Mercedes. You’ll need the dark tint in the south.”

They nodded as well. 

“We’re taking the jeep.”

I was surprised to see that Carlisle intended to go with Edward. I realised suddenly, that they made up the hunting party. 

“Alice,” Carlisle asked. “Will they take the bait?”

Everyone watched Alice as she closed her eyes and became incredibly still. 

Finally, her eyes opened. “He’ll track you. The woman will follow the truck. We should be able to leave after that.” Her voice was certain. 

“Let’s go.” Carlisle began to walk toward the kitchen. He paused as he passed Rosalie, and I saw his lips move, almost imperceptibly, hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder. Her glower faded slightly. 

Edward and Emmet trailed after him when he left the house. I felt the fear rise up and begin to choke me, when I was hit by a sudden wave of calm. 

“Bella,” I heard someone murmur, and turned to see Jasper looking at me in concern. “They’ll be okay.”

“Leave her alone, Jasper,” I heard Rosalie mutter, and the wave of calm dissipated as fast as it had come. 

Jasper’s expression was distinctly guilty. 

“You were doing that?” I asked. He nodded. “Do any of you have powers that aren’t based in controlling my life?”

Rosalie laughed, but Esme’s phone vibrated in her pocket before anyone could answer. It flashed to her ear. 

“Now,” She said. 

Rosalie glanced over at me, grinning. “Survive this, and you’ll get the full power rundown.”

The two of them slipped out the front door, Esme touching my cheek as she passed. 

“Be safe.” Her whisper lingered behind them. I heard my truck start thunderously, and then fade away. 

Jasper and Alice waited. Alice’s phone seemed to be at her ear before it buzzed. 

“Edward says the woman is on Esme’s trail. I’ll get the car.” She vanished into the shadows the way Edward had gone. 

Jasper and I looked at each other. He stood across the length of the entryway from me...being careful. 

“You’re wrong, you know,” he said quietly. 

“What?”

“You are worth it.”

“You can read my emotions as well as control them?” I snapped. 

He smiled gently, ignoring my anger. “Only the physical expression of them. But I don’t need my abilities to read what’s on your face.”

“If anything happens to them, it will be for nothing.”

“You’re wrong.” He repeated. “Would you like me to calm you down?”

“Now you’re asking?”

“Yes. I forgot that you were not aware of my abilities. I’m sorry for influencing you without your knowledge or consent.”

“Well,” I muttered begrudgingly. “Alright. I suppose you can.”

My heart rate immediately slowed, and the pounding in my head disappeared. Alice stepped through the front door and came toward me with her arms held out. 

“May I?” She asked. 

“You’re the first one to ask permission.” 

She giggled, her laughter tinkling in the air. She lifted me in her slender arms as easily as Emmet had, shielding me protectively, and then we flew out the door, leaving the lights bright behind us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How would you guys feel about references to other mystical and magical creatures besides vampires and the wolves?
> 
> Also, found out that when Americans say flapjack they mean pancake and I can't get over it. What the hell do you call flapjacks then? Do you just not have them????? What a sad life that must be. 
> 
> Coming soon, to a screen near you: we visit Phoenix! And that’s kinda it I’m sorry :(


	21. Impatience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus this week has been unnecessary. I saw Tyler Posey's dick, got thrown out of my house... I mean that's it but its not been a good time. 0/10 would not recommend.
> 
> In other news, I've got a little bit [read: a lot] of a writers crush on whenshewrites and I'm obsessed with her stuff. 10/10 would recommend.

When I woke up I was confused. My thoughts were hazy, still twisted up in dreams and nightmares; it took me longer than it should have to realise where I was. 

The room was too bland to belong anywhere but in a hotel. The bedside lamps, bolted to the tables, were a dead giveaway, as were the long drapes made from the same fabric as the bedspread, and the generic watercolour prints on the walls. 

I tried to remember how I got here, but nothing came at first. 

I did remember the sleek black car, the glass in the windows darker than that on a limousine. The engine was almost silent, though we’d raced across the black freeways at more than twice the legal speed. 

And I remembered Alice sitting with me on the dark leather backseat. Somehow, during the long night, my head had ended up against her neck. My closeness didn’t seem to bother her at all, and her cool, hard skin was oddly comforting to me. The front of her thin cotton shirt was cold, damp with the tears that streamed from my eyes until, red and sore, they ran dry.

Sleep had evaded me; my aching eyes strained open even though the night finally ended and dawn broke over a low peak somewhere in California. The grey light, streaming across the cloudless sky, stung my eyes. But I couldn’t close them; when I did, the images that flashed all too vividly, like still slides behind my lids, were unbearable. Charlie’s worried expression—Emmet’s brutal snarl, teeth bared—Rosalie’s protective glare—the keen-eyed scrutiny of the tracker—the concerned look in Jess’ eyes when I told her what happened in Port Angeles...I couldn’t stand to see them. So I fought my weariness and the sun rose higher. 

I was still awake when we came through a shallow mountain pass and the sun, behind us now, reflected off the tiled rooftops of the Valley of the Sun. I didn’t have enough emotion left to be surprised that we’d made a three-day journey in one. I stared blankly at the wife, flat expanse laid out in front of me. Phoenix—the palm trees, the scrubby creosote, the haphazard lines of the intersecting freeways, the green swaths of golf courses and turquoise splotches of swimming pools, all submerged in a thin smog and embraced by the short, rocky ridges that weren’t really big enough to be called mountains. 

The shadows of the palm trees slanted across the freeway—defined, sharper than I remembered, paler than they should be. Nothing could hide in these shadows. I tried to feel relief, a sense of homecoming, but the fear overwhelmed it all. 

“Which way to the airport, Bella?” Jasper had asked, and I flinched, though his voice was quite soft and unassuming. It was the first sound, besides the purr of the car, to break the long nights silence. 

“Stay on the I-ten,” I’d answered automatically. “We’ll pass right by it.”

My brain had worked slowly through the fog of sleep deprivation. 

“Are we flying somewhere?” I’d asked Alice. 

“No, but it’s better to be close, just in case.”

I remembered beginning the loop around Sky Harbor International...but not ending it. I suppose that must have been when I’d fallen asleep. 

Though, now that I’d chased the memories down, I did have a vague impression of leaving the car—the sun was just falling behind the horizon—my arm draped over Alice’s shoulder and her arm firm around my waist, dragging me along as I stumbled through the warm, dry shadows. 

I had no memory of this room.

I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers claimed it was three o’clock, but they gave no indication of if it was night or day. No edge of light escaped the thick curtains, but the room was bright with the light from the lamps. 

I switched on my phone, seeing the influx of missed notifications. Angela, Jess and Mike has all texted me, asking why I wasn’t in school, getting progressively more panicked until the most recent one, in which Jess threatened to call the police. I shot back some quick explanations about an emergency in Phoenix, ensuring to include a joking reference to Charlie’s job in my reply to Jess. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too angry at my sudden disappearance. 

The missed calls from Blair cast a shadow over my mood. She too, asked about my whereabouts, but the tone was more betrayed than concerned. I couldn’t blame her: once she had laughed at my reaction to blood, and I hadn’t spoken to her for two weeks. 

I rose stiffly and staggered to the window, pulling back the drapes. 

It was dark outside. Three in the morning then—too late to call Blair. My room looked out in a deserted section of the freeway and the long term parking garage for the airport. It was slightly comforting to be able to pinpoint a time and place. 

I looked down at myself. I was still wearing Rosalie’s clothes. I looked around the room, and discovered my backpack on top of the low dresser, but made no move to grab it. Like it had in Port Angeles, the smell of Rosalie’s clothes was grounding me, calming me down and counteracting the wave of fear that threatened to overwhelm me.

I was inhaling the scent when a light tap on the door made me jump. 

“Can I come in?” Alice asked. 

I took a deep breath. “Sure.”

She walked in, and looked over me cautiously. “You look like you could sleep longer,” she said gently. I was glad she didn’t comment on my choice to stay in her sisters clothes. 

I shook my head. 

She drifted silently to the curtains and closed them securely before turning back to me. 

“We’ll need to stay inside,” she told me. 

“Okay.” My voice was hoarse; it cracked. 

“Thirsty?” she asked. 

I shrugged. “I’m okay. How about you?”

“Nothing unmanageable.” She smiled. “I ordered some food for you, it’s in the front room. Edward reminded me that you have to eat a lot more frequently than we do.”

I was instantly more alert, desperate for information. “He called?”

“No, it was before we left,” she said apologetically. 

She took my hand carefully and led me through the door into the living room of the hotel suite. I could hear a low buzz of voices coming from the TV. Jasper sat motionlessly at the desk in the corner, his eyes watching the historical documentary with a glimmer of amusement. 

I sat on the floor next to the coffee table, where a tray of food waited, and began picking at it without noticing what I was eating. 

Alice perched on the arm of the Jasper’s chair and draped herself across him, looking at the TV. “What have they got wrong so far?” 

“Surprisingly, not that much,” he didn’t look away from the screen. “The presenter keeps dressing up as the historical figures, which I could do without.”

Alice giggled. “That wig is _terrible_.”

I ate slowly, watching them discuss the show, turning now and then to glance at the screen. It began to dawn on me that they were too still. Even in the casual position they’d adopted, there was no movement, eyes fixed on the TV, even when commercials where playing. They looked like wax figures. 

I pushed the tray away, my stomach abruptly uneasy. Alice looked down at me. 

“What’s wrong, Bella?” She asked. 

“Nothings wrong. Just antsy.”

She beamed. “Do you need something to do? Can I get my cards out?”

I glanced uneasily at Jasper, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Sure?” I said tentatively. 

Alice clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh, brilliant! I’ve been wanting to use them for ages, but I just haven’t had the chance—everyone else thinks it’s silly, you know, but I knew you’d like it.” She babbled, bouncing over to her own bag, propped up against the wall. She pulled a purple box out, and came to sit opposite me. 

“Okay, so, you’ve got to ask me a question, and then I shuffle these, and then you pick out the cards, and I put them into the spread that matches the question.” She pulled out the deck, and I saw that they were tarot cards. I looked up at her incredulously. “Shhh, don’t be mean. I know I can do it myself, but the human way is just so _interesting_ , don’t you think? And they’re so often right!”

“Because they’re deliberately vague.” Jasper interjected. 

Alice slapped his leg playfully. “No, they’re open to interpretation. Even I couldn’t give one big prediction and just leave it at that. Bella,” She turned back to me. “You believe that they work, right?”

I hesitated. “Well, I think they’re just supposed to be applicable to any situation, so I’m not sure if they’re actually magic...”

She clucked disapprovingly. “So you believe in vampires, but not tarot cards?”

I blushed. “In my defence, it’s not like I’ve _seen_ magic.”

“Bella!” She exclaimed. “You’re a cynic?”

I shuffled uncomfortably under her amused gaze. “Yeah.”

“Because that makes sense.” Jasper said dryly, his lips twitching. 

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I liked it better when you were quiet.” 

“We could just ask the cards if they work?” Alice said. 

I looked back at her. “But you’ll just read them so they agree with you.”

“No, they’ll will tell us what is _trueeeee_ ,” She waggled her fingers at me. 

“This is like asking a ouji board if there’s someone there. Even if the answers no, having an answer confirms that someone is there. You’ll claim they’re magic either way.” 

Alice pouted dramatically. “Stop ruining my fun, Bella. We can ask them something else if you want.”

“I wouldn’t know what to ask.”

“We can just do a general future one! Like the tarot equivalent of what I do—a general overview of your life?” Alice was bouncing like she’d drank a litre of coffee. I couldn’t resist smiling in response. 

“Alright. Fine. I’m not saying I’ll believe it.”

She nodded, already shuffling the cards. Her eyes were scrunched closed, a look of intense concentration on her face. After a moment she opened them. 

“Okay, so I don’t actually know any proper spreads yet... but I thought we could pick some cards and look at them, and the order we pick is the order they’ll affect you?”

“Sure. Doesn’t really matter to me,” I grinned. “How many cards?”

Jasper spoke again from his spot in front of the TV. “Do five. One for each of the siblings.”

I looked over to him. “That’s crap reasoning.”

He shrugged, a smile dancing around his lips. “Hey, I just thought it sounded mystical enough. Didn’t see you coming up with an idea.”

“Fine,” I conceded grudgingly. 

“Excellent!” Alice was still filled with excitement. “Okay, so, Bella, I think you need to pick one of these.” She spread the deck out in a fan on the coffee table. 

I danced my fingers across the pile, eventually settling on a card near the middle. I moved to flip it over. 

“No, wait!” Alices panicked voice rang out. “Flip it lengthways...on the long side. Which way up it is changes the meaning.” 

“Fineee,” I drew out the word, making it clear my frustration was false. I flipped the card over to reveal a inverted illustration of a man brandishing a sword. 

Alice twisted her neck to peer down at it. “Huh. Reversed king of swords. That means...a man. A very aggressive, impulsive man, I think.”

Jasper laughed. “Well, I’m so glad we had the cards to tell us that. Where would we be without that wisdom?” 

I grinned involuntarily, but quickly smothered it when I saw Alice’s expression of outraged betrayal. 

“Shut up, Jas. Credit where credit is due, they got it right. Don’t ruin my fun. Pick the next card, Bella.” 

I hastily obeyed her. Carefully, I placed the card right side up on the table. I squinted at the illustration. 

“It’s the three of...chalices? It’s upside down.”

Alice’s eyes were unfocused as she tried to remember. “Im pretty sure that’s unpredictable circumstances and confusion, leading to pain and distress.”

I hummed. “Okay, next card?”

She nodded, and I pulled it out. 

“Queen of swords.” I read out. 

Alice wiggled her eyebrows at me suggestively. “I remember this one. It’s a woman, who is intelligent, beautiful and prideful, with a dash of obsession. Sounds familiar?”

I pointedly ignored her, and moved onto the next card. 

“The fool.” 

“That’s the cards telling you you’re an idiot, Ally.” Jasper interjected. 

She poked his knee. “Stop being rude in front of my friend. It means new life.” 

“So I’m getting pregnant.” I said dryly. “Whoop de doop, it’s a dream come true.”

“Don’t you start.” Alice turned on me. “It’s not that literal. It’s saying you’re going to have a new beginning.” 

“So you’re saying I _won’t_ have to go through months of morning sickness and back pain? I’m heartbroken. Truly.” I grinned at her. 

Alice stuck her tongue out at me, and gestured towards the remaining cards. 

I sighed, and picked it up, flipping it over so she could see. 

“Inverted Justice,” she read out. “Okay, so that’s...false accusations and unfairness.” 

“Is that me making the false accusations?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Alice replied. “It’s going to cause a mess, whoever does it.”

Jasper stood up. “Well, Alice, you’ve proved me wrong. All of those predictions were very clear and accurate. I may just leave you for the cards.”

Alice spluttered and they began to bicker. I zoned out, their play fighting just background noise to a sudden onslaught of panic. Images of pain and death flashed in front of me, the trackers face grinning behind each and every one. 

“Bella,” Jasper’s quiet voice broke through my reverie. I blinked, and realised they were both staring at me in concern. “You know you’re safe here?” 

“I know that.”

“Then why are you frightened?” He asked, confused. He might feel the tenor of my emotions, but he couldn’t read the reasons behind them. 

“You heard what Laurent said.” My voice was just a whisper, but I was sure they could hear me. “He said James was lethal. What if something goes wrong, and they get separated? If something happened to any of them...” My voice had grown higher, a note of hysteria beginning to rise in it. “How could I live with myself when it’s my fault? None of you should be risking yourselves for me—“

“Bella, Bella, stop,” he interrupted me, his words pouring out so quickly they were hard to understand. “You’re worrying about all the wrong things, Bella. Trust me on this—none of us are in jeopardy. You are under too much strain as it is; don’t add to it with wholly unnecessary worries. Our family is strong.”

“But why should you—“ I began to ask, my voice desperate. 

Alice interrupted this time, touching my cheek with her cold fingers. “Bella, we care about you. You’re going to be part of the family one day.” I frowned. “But we would do it anyway. We wouldn’t stand by and allow James to take anyone from Forks.”

My guilt slowly subsided as I looked into her dark eyes. But, even as the cal spread over me, I knew I couldn’t trust my feelings with Jasper there. 

It was a very long day. 

We stayed in the room. Alice called down to the front desk and asked them to ignore our maid service for now. The windows stayed shut, the TV on, though no one watched it. At regular intervals, food was delivered for me. The silver phone resting on Alice’s bag seemed to grow bigger as the hours passed. 

My babysitters handled the suspense better than I did. As I fidgeted and paced, they simply grew more still, two statues whose eyes followed me imperceptibly as I moved. I occupied myself with memorising the room; the striped pattern of the couches, tan, peach, cream, dull gold, and tan again. Sometimes I stared at the abstract prints, randomly finding pictures in the shapes, like I’d found pictures in the clouds as a child. I traced a blue hand, a woman combing her hair, a cat stretching. But when the pale red circle became a staring eye, I looked away. 

As the afternoon wore on, I went back to bed, simply for something to do. I hoped that by myself in the dark, I could give in to the terrible fears that hovered on the edge of my consciousness, unable to break through under Jasper’s careful supervision. 

But Alice followed me casually, as if by some coincidence she had grown tired of the front room at the same time. She watched as I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, as I grabbed my phone when I realised with horror that I hadn’t called Blair. 

The call strained my already fraying nerves, Blair’s ragged sobs threatening to disrupt the tenuous calm I was feeling. I ignored my own problems, however, and continued to comfort her, promising that it would be okay. We spoke for nearly an hour, until her nurse told her it was time to sleep. The panic began to creep back into her voice, so I vowed to call her tomorrow. I just hoped I could. 

When the call was over, I lay across the bed, exhausted, and Alice sat, legs folded, next to me. She’d remained quiet while I spoke with Blair, rubbing my back in silent solidarity, and made no move to speak now. I ignored her presence at first, suddenly tired enough to sleep. But after a few minutes, the choking panic began to crawl back up. I gave up on the idea of sleep quickly then, curling into a small ball, wrapping my arms around my legs. 

“Alice?” I asked. 

“Yes?” 

I kept my voice very calm. “What do you think they’re doing?”

“Carlisle wanted to lead the tracker as far north as possible, wait for him to get close, and then turn and ambush him. Esme and Rose were supposed to head west as long as they could keep the female behind them. If she turned around, they were to head back to Forks and keep and eye on your dad. So I imagine things are going well if they can’t call. It means the tracker is close enough that they don’t want him to overhear.”

“And Esme?” 

Alice smiled knowingly at the exclusion of Rosalie. “I think they must be back in Forks. They won’t call if there’s any chance the female will overhear.”

“Do you think they’re safe, really?”

“Yes, Bella, I do.” Her voice was earnest. 

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

“How do you become a vampire?” I asked suddenly. 

My question caught her off guard. She was quiet. I rolled over to look at her, and her expression seemed ambivalent. 

“Edward didn’t want you to know.” She said firmly, but I sensed she didn’t agree. “He didn’t want to scare you off.”

“It’s none of his business. This is between you and me. Alice, as a friend, I’m begging you.” She clearly saw through my attempt at manipulation, but seemed flattered either way. 

“I’ll tell you the mechanics of it,” she said slowly. “But I don’t remember it myself, and I’ve never done it or seen it done, so keep in mind that I can only tell you the theory.”

I waited. 

“As predators, we have a glut of weapons in our physical arsenal—much more than really necessary. The strength, the speed, the acute senses, not to mention those of us who have extra abilities as well. And then we are physically attractive to our prey.” She smiled a wide, ominous smile. “We’re also venomous. The venom doesn’t kill—it’s merely incapacitating. It works slowly, spreading through the bloodstream, so that, once bitten, our prey is in too much physical pain to escape us. It’s mostly superfluous, of course. If we’re that close, the prey doesn’t escape. Of course, there are always exceptions. If the venom is left to spread, it begins the transformation.”

I shivered. 

“It takes a few days, depending on how much venom is in the blood stream, how close the venom enters to the heart. As long as the heart keeps beating, the poison spreads, healing, changing the body as it moves through it. Eventually the heart stops, and the conversion is finished. But all that time, every minute of it, a victim would be wishing for death.”

“I see why Edward thought it would scare me off. That doesn’t sound like something I want to do.”

Alice nodded. “It’s very difficult on both sides. The awful pain on one side, the bloodlust on the other.” She saw my confused expression, and explained. “Once we taste blood, or even smell it for that matter, it becomes very hard to keep from feeding. Sometimes impossible. So you see, to actually bite someone, to taste the blood, it would begin a frenzy.”

“Why don’t you remember?” I asked tentatively. 

“I don’t know. For everyone else, the pain of the transformation is the sharpest memory they have of their human life. I remember nothing of being human.” Her voice was wistful. 

”I’m so sorry, Alice.” 

She shrugged. “We’ve tried to track myself down—but there aren’t any records of any Japanese girls called Alice anywhere near where I woke up. Chances are I had a different name. There’s nothing to link me to any family.” Her voice quivered. 

We lay silently, wrapped in our individual meditations. The seconds ticked by; and I had almost forgotten her presence, I was so enveloped in my thoughts.

Then, without any warning, Alice leaped from the bed, landing lightly on her feet. My head jerked up as I stared at her, startled. 

“Something’s changed.” Her voice was urgent, and she wasn’t talking to me anymore. 

She reached the door at the same time Jasper did. He had obviously heard our conversation and her sudden exclamation. He put his hands on her shoulders and guided her back to the bed, sitting her on the edge. 

“What do you see?” He asked intently, staring into her eyes. They were focused on something very far away. I sat close to her, leaning in to catch her low, quick voice. 

“I see a room. It’s long, and there are mirrors everywhere. The floor is wooden. He’s in the room, and he’s waiting. There’s gold...a gold striped across the mirrors.”

“Where is the room?”

“I don’t know. Something is missing—another decision hasn’t been made yet.”

“How much time?”

“It’s soon. He’ll be in the mirror room today, or maybe tomorrow. It all depends. He’s waiting for something. And he’s in the dark now.”

Jasper’s voice was calm, methodical, as he questioned her in a practiced way. “What is he doing?”

“He’s watching TV...no, he’s running a VCR, in the dark, in another place.”

“Can you see where he is?”

“No, it’s too dark.”

“And the mirror room, what else is there?”

“Just the mirrors, and the gold. It’s a band, around the rooms. And there’s a black table with a big stereo, and a TV. He’s roughing the VCR there, but he doesn’t watch the way he does in the dark room. This is the room where he waits.” Her eyes drifted, then focused on Jasper’s face. 

“There’s nothing else?”

She shook her head. They looked at each other, motionless. 

“What does it mean?” I asked. 

Neither of them answered for a moment, then Jasper looked at me.

“It means the trackers plans have changed. He’s made a decision that will lead him to the mirror room, and the dark room.”

“But we don’t know where those rooms are?”

“No.”

“But we do know that he won’t be in the mountains north of Washington, being hunted. He’ll elude them.” Alice’s voice was bleak. 

“Should we call?” I asked. They traded a serious look, undecided. 

Then the phone rang. 

Alice was across the room before I could lift my head to look at it. She pushed a button and the the phone to her ear, but she didn’t speak first. 

“Carlisle,” she breathed. She didn’t seem surprised or relieved, the way I felt.

“Yes,” she said, glancing at me. She listened for a long moment. 

“I just saw him.” She described the vision she’d seen. “Whatever made him get on that plane...it was leading him to those rooms.” 

She hummed in confirmation as Carlisle spoke, then pulled the phone away from her face, hanging up. 

“They’re going to follow the tracker back to Forks...that’s where they think he’s gone. We’ll figure it out from there,” she said to me. 

I nodded.

Alice seemed satisfied with that, and went to sit on the sofa. She bent over the table, and began to sketch on a piece of hotel stationary. Jasper moved to sit besides her, and I leaned on the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder.

She drew a room: long, rectangular, with a thinner, square section at the back. The wooden planks that made up the floor stretched lengthways across the room. Down the walls were lined denoting the breaks in the mirrors. And then, wrapping around the walls, waist high, a long band. The band Alice said was gold.

“It’s a ballet studio,” I said, suddenly recognising the familiar shapes. 

They looked at me, surprised. 

“Do you know this room?” Jasper’s voice sounded calm, but there was an undercurrent of something I couldn’t identify. Alice bent her head to her work, her hand flying across the page now, the shape of an emergency exit taking shape against the back wall, the stereo and TV on a low table by the front right corner. 

“It looks like a place I used to go for dance lesson—when I was thirteen or fourteen. It was shaped just the same.” I touched the page where the square section jutted our, narrowing the back part of the room. “That’s where the bathrooms were—the doors were through the other dance floor. But I remember the stereo being here“—I pointed to the left corner—“and it was older, and there wasn’t a TV. There was a window in the waiting room; you could see the room from this perspective if you looked through it.”

Alice and Jasper were staring at me.

“Are you sure it’s the same room?” Jasper asked, still calm.

“No, not at all—I suppose most dance studios would look the same, with the mirrors and the barre.” I traced my fingers along the ballet barre set against the mirrors. “It’s just the shape that looked familiar.” I touched the door, set in exactly the same place as the one I remembered. 

“Would you have any reason to go there now?” Alice asked, breaking my reverie.

“No, I haven’t been back there in a few years. I wasn’t a great dancer—better than I am at sports though,” I joked, trying to break the air of tension that had descended. 

“So there’s no way it could be connected with you?” Alice asked intently. 

“No, I don’t even think the same person owns it. I’m sure it’s just another dance studio, somewhere.”

“Where was the studio you went to?” Jasper asked in a casual voice. 

“It was just around the corner from my mom’s house. I used to walk there after school...” I said, my voice trailing off. I didn’t miss the look they exchanged. 

“Here in Phoenix, then?” His voice was still casual. 

“Yes,” I whispered. “Fifty-eighth street and Cactus.”

Alice was up immediately, already on the phone to Carlisle. Jasper stayed with me, hands reached towards me placatingly, waves of calm trying to combat the fear rising in my throat. 

“Bella, Bella, this doesn’t mean he’s found you. He’s just going to come to the city at some point soon. You’re okay, you’re safe here.”

I curled into myself on the sofa, ignoring him. All I could think about was what would happen if Renée and Phil came home early, if the tracker found the house, what he would do to them to get to me. I rocked back and forth, glaring at the TV through my tears, watching for stories about Florida or about spring training—strikes or hurricanes or terrorist attacks—anything that might send them home early. 

Somehow, concentrating on the words of the news anchor calmed me down far more than Jasper did. As my breathing evened out, I thought about calling Charlie, but I didn’t know if I should be in Phoenix yet. I gradually unfurled myself, settling into the sofa. I began to nibble on a plate of leftover fruit, anticipating a long evening. 

With my mind clear again, I became aware of my companions. Immortality must grant endless patience. While I fidgeted and worried on the sofa, neither Alice nor Jasper seemed to feel the need to do anything at all. For a while, Alice sketched the vague outline of the dark room from her vision, as much as she could see in the light of the TV. But when she was done, she simply sat, looking at the blank walls with her timeless eyes. Jasper, too, seemed to have no urge to pace, or peek through the curtains, or run screaming out the door, the way I did. He had moved to hold Alices hand at some point during my hysteria. 

I must have fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring again. The touch of Alices cold hands woke be briefly as she carried me to the bed, but I was unconscious again before my head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like hearing yalls opinions, its really fun. I might start regularly asking questions at the end of chapters just because. Maybe not just twilight related stuff?
> 
> Sorry for gratuitous use of tarot cards lol
> 
> Next chapter: its a short one, but Bella gets a call from her mom


	22. Phone Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is doing okay. Everything is scary right now, and, for me at least, it feels like I'm never doing enough. I want you all to know that I'm here for you if you want to talk, and that its okay to take a break from the internet and the news for a while, if it's too much. Staying aware and active is important, but there comes a point when you need to put your mental health first. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter; I'm sorry it's so short.

I could feel it was too early again when I woke, and I knew I was getting the schedule of my days and nights slowly reversed. I lay in my bed for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling and listening to the quiet voices of Alice and Jasper in the other room. That they were loud enough for me to hear at all was strange. I rolled across the bed until my feet touched the floor and then staggered to the living room. 

The clock on the TV said it was just after two in the morning. Alice and Jasper were sitting together on the sofa, Alice sketching again while Jasper looked over her shoulder. They didn’t look up when I entered, too engrossed in Alice’s work. 

I crept to Jasper’s side to peek. 

“Did she see something else?” I asked him quietly.

“Yes. Something’s brought him back to the room with the VCR, but it’s light now.”

I watched with growing horror as Alice drew a square room with dark beams across the low ceiling. The walls were panelled in wood, a little too dark, out of date. The floor had a dark carpet with a pattern in it. There was a large window against the south wall, and an archway cut into the west wall that led to the living room. One side of that entrance was stone—a large stone fireplace that was open to both rooms. The focus of the room from this perspective, the TV and VCR, balanced on a too-small wooden stand, were in the southwest corner of the room. An old leather sectional sofa curved around in front of the TV, a round coffee table in front of it. 

“The phone goes there,” I whispered, pointing. 

Two pairs of black eyes flashed to my face. 

“That’s my mother’s house.”

Alice was already off the couch, phone in hand, dialling. I stared at the precise rendering of my mother’s family room. Uncharacteristically, Jasper slid closer to me. He lightly touched his hand to my shoulder, silently asking for permission. I nodded frantically, unable to speak. The physical contact seemed to make his calming influence stronger; the panic stayed dull, unfocused. 

Alice’s lips were trembling with the speed of her words, the low buzzing impossible to decipher. I couldn’t concentrate on anything besides the cool hand on my shoulder. 

“Bella,” Alice said. I looked at her numbly. 

“Bella, Edward is coming to get you. He and Emmet and Carlisle are going to take you somewhere, to hide you for a while.”

“They’re taking me away?” The words were like a life vest, holding my head above the floor. 

“Yes, they’re catching the first flight out of Seattle. We’ll meet them at the airport, and you’ll leave with Edward.”

“But my mother...he came here for my mom, Alice!” Despite Jasper, the hysteria bubbled up in my voice. 

“Jasper and I will stay until we’re sure she’s safe.”

“I can’t win, Alice. You can’t guard everyone I know forever. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s not tracking my at all. He’ll find someone, he’ll hurt someone I love...Alice, I can’t—“ My words were nearly incomprehensible through my tears. 

“We’ll catch him, Bella,” she assured me. 

“But what if you get hurt, Alice? Do you think that’s okay with me? Do you honestly think it’s only my family he can hurt me with?”

Alice looked meaningfully at Jasper. A deep, heavy fog of lethargy washed over me, and my eyes closed without my permission. My mind struggled against the fog, realising what was happening. I forced my eyes open and stood up, jerking my shoulder away from Jasper’s hand.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” I snapped. 

I walked to my room and shut the door, slammed it really, so I could be free to go to pieces privately. This time Alice didn’t follow me. For three and a half hours I stared at the wall, curled tightly in a ball, rocking. My mind went around in circles, trying to come up with some way out of this nightmare. There was no escape, no reprieve. I could only see one possible end looming darkly in my future. The only question was how many other people would be hurt before I reached it. 

The only solace, the only hope I had left, was knowing that Renèe was still in Florida. Her and Phil were safe, as long as they stayed as far away from Phoenix as they could. If James came to Phoenix, that took him further away from Charlie, as well. 

When the phone rang, I returned to the front room, a little ashamed of my behaviour. I hoped I hadn’t offended either of them, that they would know how grateful I was for the sacrifices they were making on my account. Regardless of Alice’s visions, they didn’t really know me, and risking the safety of their entire family for a future that seemed nebulous at best was incredibly brave of them. 

Alice was talking as rapidly as ever, but what caught my attention was that, for the first time, Jasper was not in the room. I looked at the clock—it was five-thirty in the morning. 

“They’re just boarding the plane. Rose and Esme are coming too.” Alice told me. “They’ll land at nine-forty-five.” Just a few more hours to keep breathing before they got here, and I could leave. 

“Where’s Jasper?” I asked quietly. 

“He went to check out.”

“You aren’t staying here?”

“No, we’re relocating close to your mother’s house.”

My stomach twisted uneasily at her words. 

But my phone rang, distracting me. Alice looked surprised, but the expression was quickly replaced by suspicion. She grabbed it before I could, answering it. 

“Hello?” Alice asked. She paused, listening to the response, and her face relaxed. “No, she’s right here.” She held the phone out to me. I was already walking forward, reaching for it. Your mother, she mouthed at me.

“Hello?” I said. 

“Bella? Bella?” It was my mother’s voice, in a familiar tone that I had heard a thousand times in my childhood, anytime I’d gotten too close to the edge of the sidewalk or strayed out of her sight in a crowded place. It was the sound of panic and anger. 

I shuffled my feet, walking away from Alice so she couldn’t overhear. The walls of the hotel were soundproof; Alice had told me it was easier for her to focus on the visions if she wasn't overwhelmed by her other senses. I’d been expecting this as soon as I left Forks; Renée disliked not knowing where I was at all times, compromising on the move to Washington only because of Charlie. As soon as he’d told her I was gone, she would have contacted me. I just hoped Alice wouldn’t be able to here the verbal assault that was about to hit me. 

“Mom, it’s fine, I’m just visiting Blair,” I said in my most soothing voice, walking into the bedroom and shutting the door. I knew my mother would never contact Blair herself, so my lie was safe. “Everything is fine, okay? I’m in a hotel in Phoenix. Just give me a minute and I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

I paused, surprised that she hadn’t interrupted me yet.

“Mom?”

“Be very careful not to say anything until I tell you to.” The voice I heard Now was as unfamiliar as it was unexpected. It was a man’s tenor voice, a pleasant, generic voice—the kind of voice that you heard in the background of luxury car commercials. He spoke very quickly, but quietly. 

“Now, I don’t need to hurt your mother, so please do exactly as I say, and she’ll be fine.” He paused for a minute while I listened in mute horror. “That’s very good. Wouldn’t want your friends to know there was anything wrong, would we?” His tone was amused. “Now, repeat after me, and do try to sound natural. Please say, ‘No, Mom, stay where you are.’”

“No, Mom, stay where you are.” My voice was barely more than a whisper. 

“I can see this is going to be difficult.” It sounded like he was smiling, his voice still light and friendly. “Are you in a different room? Yes or not only, please, Bella.”

“Yes.” 

“Good. We wouldn’t want your face to ruin anything. There’s no reason for your mother to suffer. Now, please say, ‘Mom, please listen to me.’ Say it now.”

“Mom, please listen to me,” my voice pleaded. I paced around the bedroom, Alice’s concern so visceral I could almost feel it through the door. My heart was pounding, and I tried desperately to think clearly through the terror that gripped my brain. 

“There now, are you alone in the room? Just answer yes or no.” 

“Yes.”

“But hey can still hear you, I’m sure.”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Nothing to be done about that, unfortunately. All right, then. Say, ‘Mom, trust me.’”

“Mom, trust me.” 

“This worked out rather better than I expected. I was prepared to wait, but your mother arrived ahead of schedule. Something about Phil not getting signed? The assistant coach of the _Sidewinders_ I believe it’s called—you humans have such delightfully stupid names for things—said that they might have a spot for another shortstop. It’s easier this way, isn’t it? Less suspense, less anxiety for you.”

I waited. 

“Now, I want you to listen very carefully. I’m going to need you to get away from your friends; do you think you can do that? Answer yes or no.”

“No.”

“I’m very sad to hear that. I was hoping you would be a little more creative than that. Do you think you could get away from them if your mother’s life depended on it? Answer yes or no.”

Somehow, there had to be a way. I remembered that we were going to the airport. Sky Harbor International Airport: crowded, confusingly laid out...

“Yes.”

“That’s better. I’m sure it won’t be easy, but if I get the slightest hint that you have any company, well, that would be very bad for your mother,” the friendly voice promised. “You must know enough about us by now to realise how quickly I would know if you tried to bring anyone along with you. And how little time I would need to deal with your mother if that was the case. Do you understand? Answer yes or no.”

“Yes.” My voice broke. 

“Very good, Bella. Now this is what you have to do. I want you to go to your mother’s house. Next to the phone there will be a number. Call it, and I’ll tel you where to go from there.” I already knew where I would go, and where this would end. But I would follow his instructions exactly. “Can you do that? Answer yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“Before noon, please, Bella. I haven’t got all day,” he said politely. 

“Where’s Phil?” I asked tersely. 

“Ah, br careful now, Bella. Wait until I ask you to speak, please.”

I waited. 

“It’s important, now, that you don’t make your friends suspicious when you go back to them. Tell them that your mother called, and that you talked her out of coming home for the time being. Now repeat after me, ‘Thank you, Mom.’ Say it now.”

“Thank you, Mom.” The tears were coming. I tried to fight them back.

“Say, ‘I love you, Mom, I’ll see you soon.’ Say it now.”

There was bile in my throat. “I love you, Mom.” My voice was thick. “I’ll see you soon,” I promised. 

“Goodbye, Bella. I look forward to seeing you again.” He hung up. 

I held the phone to my ear. My joints were frozen with terror—I couldn’t unbend my fingers to drop it. 

I knew I had to think, but my head was filled with the sound of my mothers panic. Seconds ticked by while I fought for control. 

Slowly, slowly, my thoughts started to break past that brick wall of pain. To plan. For I had no choices now but one: to go to the mirrored room and die. I had no guarantees, nothing to give to keep my mother alive. I could only hope that James would be satisfied with winning the game, that beating the Cullens would be enough. Despair gripped me; there was no way to bargain, nothing I could offer or withhold that could influence him. But I still had no choice. I had to try. 

I pushed the terror back as well as I could. My decision was made. It did no good to waste time agonising over the outcome. I had to think clearly, because Alice and Jasper were waiting for me, and evading then was absolutely essential, and absolutely impossible. 

I was suddenly grateful that Jasper was gone. If he had been here to feel my anguish in the last five minutes, how could I have kept them from being suspicious? I choked back the dread, the anxiety, tried to stifle it. I couldn’t afford it now. I didn’t know when he would return. 

I concentrated on my escape. I had to hope that my familiarity with the airport would turn the odds in my favour. I couldn’t plan it though...any concrete decision and Alice would know in a heartbeat. Somehow, I had to keep her from knowing...

I knew Alice was in the other room waiting for me, curious. But I had to deal with one more thing in private, before Jasper was back.

I had to accept that I wouldn’t see Charlie again, nor Jess, Mike, Blair, or even Angela. Not one last glimpse of their faces to carry with me to the mirror room. I was going to hurt them, and I couldn’t say goodbye. I let the waves of torture wash over me, have their way for a time. Then I pushed them back, too, and went to face Alice. 

The only expression I could manage was a dull, dead look. I saw her alarm and I didn’t wait for her to ask. I had just one script and I’d never manage improvisation now. 

“My mom was worried, she wanted to come home. But it’s okay, I convinced her to stay away.” My voice was lifeless. 

“We’ll make sure she’s fine, Bella, don’t worry.” Alice watched me cautiously as she spoke.

I turned away; I couldn’t let her see my face. 

My eyes fell on a blank page of the hotel stationary on the desk. I went to it slowly, a hazy plan forming. There was an envelope there, too. That was good. 

“Alice,” I asked slowly, without turning, keeping my voice level. “If I write a letter for my mother, would you give it to her? Leave it at the house, I mean.” 

“Sure, Bella.” Her voice was careful. She could see me coming apart at the seams. I had to keep my emotions under better control. 

I went into the bedroom again, and knelt next to the little bedside table to write. 

“Dad,” I wrote. My hand was shaking, the letters were hardly legible. 

_I am so sorry. He has Mom, and I have to try. I know it might not work. I am so very, very sorry. Don’t be angry with Edward, for getting me here, or yourself, for not intervening sooner. Blair was in hospital; I wasn’t lying about that. Both of you were just helping me be a good friend. Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t be there._

_Please don’t come after him. That’s what he wants. I think. He wants to destroy my family. I can’t bear it if anyone has to be hurt because of me. Please, this is the only thing I can ask you now. Understand that I’m doing this for you._

_I love you. I’m sorry._

_Bella._

I folded the letter carefully, and sealed it in the envelope. I wrote his name on the front, knowing that eventually Alice would realise, and pass it on. I only hoped he would understand, and listen to me, so I hadn’t done it for nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some hotel rooms are soundproof? Right? Sure.
> 
> I had a personal mission to beat the original word count of twilight but that would mean writing 6000 word chapters for the last five, which is double what I've been doing, so that sucks :(
> 
> I've been going back and editing chapters (do you guys get notifications when I do that?), and some interactions have been added in/altered slightly. Nothing that will affect your understanding of the plot from here on out, but just establishing Tyler as more of an asshole (see the new tag of homophobic language), and having Bella thirst over Rose a bit more. Just thought some of you might like to know, so you aren't confused if you ever go back and re-read lol. 
> 
> Coming 7th June, to a Bank of Violets: We go to the airport, and Bella tries to make her escape


	23. Hide and Seek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I missed the last update guys! Things have been a bit of a mess, but I decided to give you a double whammy to make up for it!
> 
> This chapter has some pretty intense violence in it, but it’s pretty much the same as the original. If you want to skip it, stop reading at “He curled forward, into a deep crouch I recognised.” 
> 
> The violence then continues to the end of the chapter, when Bella passes out.

It had taken much less time than I’d thought—all the terror, the despair, the shattering of my heart. The minutes were ticking by more slowly than usual. Jasper still hadn’t come back when I returned to Alice. I was afraid to be in the same room as her, afraid that she would guess...and afraid to hide from her for the same reason. 

I would have thought I was far beyond the ability to be surprised, my thoughts distracted and unstable, but I _was_ surprised when I saw Alice bent over the desk, gripping the edge with two hands. 

“Alice?”

She didn’t react when I called her name, but her head was slowly rocking side to side, and I saw her face. Her eyes were blank, dazed...my thoughts flew to my mother. Was I already too late?

I hurried to her side, reaching out automatically to touch her hand. 

“Alice!” Jasper’s voice rang out, and then he was right behind her, his hands curling over hers, loosening them from their grip on the table. Across the room, the door swung shut with a low click. 

“What is it?” He demanded. 

Her expression has morphed into one of horror. She turned her face away from me, into his chest. “Bella,” she said. 

“I’m right here,” I replied automatically. 

Her head twisted around, her eyes locking on mine, their expression filled with confused pain. I realised at once that she hadn’t been speaking to me, she’d been answering Jasper’s question.

“What did you see?” I said—and there was no question in my flat, uncaring voice. 

Jasper looked at me sharply. I kept my expression vacant and waited. His eyes were confused as they flickered swiftly between Alice’s face and mine, feeling the chaos...for I could guess what Alice had seen now. 

I felt a tranquil atmosphere settle around me. I welcomed it, using it to keep my emotions disciplined, under control. 

Alice, too, recovered herself.

“Nothing, really,” she answered finally, her voice remarkably calm and convincing. “Just the same room as before.” 

She finally looked up at me, her expression smooth and withdrawn. “Did you want breakfast?”

“No, I’ll eat at the airport.” I was very calm, too. I went to the bathroom to shower. I almost felt as if I were borrowing Jasper’s abilities; I could feel Alice’s wild—though well concealed—desperation to have me out of the room, to be alone with Jasper. So she could tell him that they were doing something wrong, that they were going to fail…

I got ready methodically, concentrating on each little task. I yanked my hair into a tight ponytail, growling in frustration as I tried to pull the extra strands around my face back as well. I forcefully repressed any fear, trying to latch onto the peaceful mood that Jasper had created, but the excess emotions were pushing their way out, driving me to tears over something as tame as my hair. 

The sharp pain in my scalp as I tugged on the ponytail cleared my mind though, breaking through the dull fog. As the clarity swept through me, I began to plan. I dug through my bag until I found my sock full of money. I emptied it into my pocket. 

I was anxious to get to the airport, and was glad when we left by seven. I sat alone this time in the back of the dark car. Alice learned against the door, her face toward Jasper, but, behind her sunglasses, I could make out her eyes darting to my face every few seconds. 

“Alice?” I asked indifferently. 

She was wary. “Yes?”

“How does it work? The things that you see?” I stared out the side window, and my voice sounded bored. “Is it definite...can things change?”

My voice broke on the last word, and I felt a fresh wave of serenity wash over me. Jasper was watching me carefully in the rear view mirror. 

“Yes, things can change,” she murmured—hopefully, I thought. “Some things are more certain than others...like the weather. People are harder. I only see the course they’re on while they’re on it. Once they change their minds—make a new decision, no matter how small—the whole future shifts.”

So she could see that I would be in the mirror with James...but didn’t know how. Until I made a definite plan to escape, she couldn’t see it. That explained her confusion from earlier.

I nodded thoughtfully. “So you couldn’t see James in Phoenix until he decided to come here.”

“Yes,” she agreed, wary again.

I tried not to think about what else she may have seen in the mirror room. I didn’t want my panic to make Jasper more suspicious. They would be watching me twice as carefully now, anyway, after Alice’s vision. This was going to be impossible.

We got to the airport. Luck was with me, or maybe it was just good odds. The Cullens’ plane was landing in terminal four, the largest terminal, where more flights landed—so it wasn’t surprising that theirs was too. But it was the terminal I needed: the biggest, the most confusing. And there was a door on level three that might be the only chance. 

We parked on the fourth floor of the huge garage. I led the way, for once more knowledgeable about my surroundings than they were. We took the elevator down to level three, where the passengers unloaded. Alice and Jasper spent a long time looking at the departing flights board, and I heard them discussing the pros and cons of New York, Atlanta, Chicago. Places I’d never seen. Places I would never see. 

I waited for my opportunity, impatient, unable to stop my toe from tapping. We sat in the long row of chairs by the metal detectors, Jasper and Alice pretending to people-watch but really watching me. Every inch I shifted in my seat was followed by a quick glance out of the corner of their eyes. It was hopeless. Should I run? Would they dare to stop me physically in this public place? Or would they simply follow?

I pulled the unmarked envelope out of my pocket and set it on top of Alice’s black leather bag. She looked at me.

“My letter,” I said. She nodded, tucking it under the top flap. I hoped she’d realise, soon, who it was for. 

The minutes passed and the Cullens’ arrival grew closer. I’d changed out of Rosalie’s clothes earlier, and no longer had her scent to calm me down. I felt like I was shaking. I found myself trying to think of excuses to stay, to see her first, hug her, and then make my escape. But I knew that was impossible if I was going to have any chance to get away. 

Several times Alice offered to go get food with me. Later, I told her. Not yet.

I stared at the arrival board, watching as flight after flight arrived on time. The flight from Seattle crept closer to the top of the board. 

And then, when I only had thirty minutes to make my escape, the numbers changed. The plane was ten minutes early. I had no more time. 

“I think I’ll eat now,” I said quickly. 

Alice stood up immediately. “I’ll come with you.”

“Do you mind if Jasper comes instead?” I asked. “I’m feeling a little…” I didn’t finish the sentence, waving my hands around my face. My eyes were wild enough to convey what I didn’t say. 

Jasper stood up. Alice's eyes were confused but—I saw to my relief—not suspicious. She have been attributing the change in her vision to some manoeuvre of the tracker’s rather than betrayal by me.

Jasper walked silently beside me, his hand on the small of my back, as if he were guiding me. I pretended a lack of interest in the first few airport cafes, my head scanning for what I really wanted. And there it was, around the corner, out of Alice's sharp sight: the level three women’s toilet. 

“Do you mind?” I asked Jasper as we passed. “I’ll just be a moment.”

“I’ll be right here,” he said. 

As soon as the door shut behind me, I was running. I remembered the time I had gotten lost from this bathroom, because it had two exits. 

Outside the far door it was only a short sprint to the elevators, and if Jasper stayed where he was, I’d never be in his line of sight. I didn’t look behind me as I ran. This was my only chance, and even if he saw me, I had to keep going. People stared, but I ignored them. Around the corner the elevators were waiting, and I dashed forward, throwing my hand between the closing doors of a full elevator headed down. I squeezed in between irritated passengers, ignoring my revulsion at being in such tight quarters, and checked to make sure that the button for level one had been pushed. It was already lit, and the doors closed. 

As soon as the door opened I was off again, to the sound of annoyed murmurs behind me. I slowed myself as I passed the security guards by the luggage carousels, only to break into a run again as the exit doors came into view. I had no way of knowing if Jasper was looking for me yet. I would have only seconds if he was following my scent. I jumped out the automatic doors, nearly smacking into the glass when they opened too slowly. 

Along the curb there wasn’t a cab in sight. 

I had no time. Alice and Jasper were either about to realise I was gone, or they already had. They would find me in a heartbeat. 

A shuttle to the Hyatt was just closing its doors a few feet behind me. 

“Wait!” I called, running, waving at the driver. 

“This is the shuttle to the Hyatt,” the driver said in confusion as he opened the doors.

“Yes,” I huffed. “That’s where I’m going.” I hurried up the steps.

He looked askance at my luggage-less state, but then shrugged, not caring enough to ask.

Most of the seats were empty. I sat as far from the other travelers as possible, and watched out the window as first the sidewalk, and then the airport, drifted away. I couldn’t help imagining Rosalie, where she would stand at the edge of the road when she found the end of my trail. I couldn’t cry yet, I told myself. I still had a long way to go. 

My luck held. In front of the Hyatt, a tired looking couple was getting their last suitcase out of the trunk of the cab. I jumped out of the shuttle and ran to the cab, sliding into the seat behind the driver. The tired couple and the shuttle driver stared at me.

I told the surprised cabbie my mother’s address. “I need to get there as soon as possible.”

“That’s in Scottsdale,” he complained.

I threw four twenties over the seat. 

“Will that be enough?”

“Sure, kid, no problem.”

I sat back against the seat, folding my arms across my lap. The familiar city began to rush around me, but I didn’t look out the windows. I forced myself to maintain control. I was determined not to lose my composure at this point, now that my plan was successfully completed. There was no point in indulging in more terror, more anxiety. My path was set. I just had to follow it now. 

So, instead of panicking, I closed my eyes and spent the twenty minutes’ drive with Blair. 

I imagined that I had come to Phoenix just to visit her. That the tracker had never found me. I visualised how I would hug her tightly as she lay in her hospital bed, holding her hand as she cried. How quickly she would drag my outside when she was discharged. And then we would get a cab to her house, to spend the day with ice cream and old horror movies, cuddled up as she tried to forget the clinical stench of her gown. 

I wondered what she was doing now. I’d left my phone behind, with Alice, in a desperate attempt to seem as if I was coming back. Was Blair texting me? Calling me? Would she spend the day alone, staring at the phone, wondering why I wasn’t responding? A harsh sob broke out of me, and I saw the cabbies eyes flick to me in concern. 

“You alright?” He asked nervously.

“Yes,” I replied, voice shaking. “Family thing.”

He hummed in response, seemingly unhappy with my answer. 

The next few minutes passed in tense silence. I couldn’t return to my day dream, haunted by the image of Blair, alone in the hospital. 

“Hey, what was the number?”

“Fifty-eight twenty-one.” My voice sounded strangled. 

“Here we are, then.” He was anxious to get me out of his car, probably hoping I wouldn’t have a panic attack on his back seats. Or maybe he just didn’t want me to ask for change.

“Thank you,” I whispered. There was no need to be afraid, I reminded myself. The house was empty. I had to hurry; my mom was waiting for me, frightened, depending on me.

I ran to the door, reaching up automatically to grab the key under the eave. I unlocked the door. It was dark inside, empty, normal. I ran to the phone, turning on the kitchen light on my way. There, on the whiteboard, was a ten digit number written in a small, neat hand. My fingers stumbled over the keypad, making mistakes. I had to hang up and start again. 

I concentrated only on the buttons this time, carefully pressing each one in turn. I was successful. I held the phone to my ear with a shaking hand. It rang only once. 

“Hello, Bella,” that easy voice answered. “That was very quick. I’m impressed.” 

“Is my mom all right?”

“She’s perfectly fine. Don’t worry, Bella, I have no quarrel with her. Unless you didn’t come alone, of course.” Light, amused.

“I’m alone.” I’d never been more alone in my entire life. 

“Very good. Now, do you know the ballet studio just around the corner from your home?”

“Yes. I know how to get there.”

“Well, then, I’ll see you very soon.”

I hung up. 

I ran from the room, through the door, out into the baking heat. 

There was no time to look back at my house, and I didn’t want to see it as it was now—empty, a symbol of fear instead of sanctuary. The last person to walk through those familiar rooms was my enemy. 

From the corner of my eye, I could almost see my mother standing in the shade of the big eucalyptus tree where I’d played as a child. Or kneeling by the little plot of dirt around the mailbox, the cemetery of all the flowers she’d tried to grow. The memories were better than any reality I would see today. But I raced away from them, toward the corner, leaving everything behind me. 

I felt so slow, like I was running through wet sand—I couldn’t seem to get enough purchase from the concrete. I tripped several times, once falling, catching myself with my hands, scraping them on the sidewalk, and then lurching up to plunge forward again. But at last I made it to the corner. Just another street now; I ran, sweat pouring down my face, gasping. The sun was hot on my skin, too bright as it bounced off the white concrete and blinded me. I felt dangerously exposed. More fiercely than I would have dreamed I was capable of, I wished for the green, protective forests of Forks...of home. 

When I rounded the last corner, onto Cactus, I could see the studio, looking just as I remembered it. The parking lot in front was empty, the vertical blinds in all the windows drawn. I couldn’t run anymore—I couldn’t breathe; exertion and fear had gotten the best of me. I thought of my mother to keep my feet moving, one in front of the other. 

As I got closer, I could see the sign inside of the door. It was handwritten on hot pink paper; it said the dance studio was closed for spring break. I touched the handle, tugged on it cautiously. It was unlocked. I fought to catch my breath, and opened the door. 

The lobby was dark and empty, cool, the air conditioner thrumming. The plastic moulded chairs were stacked along the walls, and the carpet smelled like shampoo. The west dance floor was dark, I could see through the open viewing window. The east dance floor, the bigger room, was lit. But the blinds were closed in the window. 

Terror seized me so strongly that I was literally trapped by it. I couldn’t make my feet move forward. 

And then my mother’s voice called. 

“Bella? Bella?” That same time of hysterical panic. I sprinted to the door, to the sound of her voice. 

“Bella, you scared me! Don’t you ever do that to me again!” Her voice continued as I ran into the long, high-ceilinged room.

I stared around me, trying to find where her voice was coming from. I heard her laugh, and I whirled to the sound. 

There she was, on the TV screen, tousling my hair in relief. It was thanksgiving, and I was twelve. We’d gone to see my grandmother in California, the last year before she’d died. We went to the beach one day, and I’d leaned too far over the edge of the pier. She’d seen my feet flailing, trying to reclaim my balance. “Bella? Bella?” She’d called to me in fear.

And then the TV screen was blue. 

I turned slowly. He was standing very still by the back exit, so still I hadn’t noticed him at first. In his hand was a remote control. We stared at each other for a long moment, and then he smiled. 

He walked toward me, quite close, and then passed to put the remote down next to the VCR. I turned carefully to watch him.

“I’m sorry about that, Bella, but isn’t it better that your mother didn’t really have to be involved in all this?” His voice was courteous, kind. 

And suddenly it hit me. My mother was safe. She was still in Florida. She’d never called me. She’d never been terrified by the dark red eyes in the abnormally pale face before me. She was safe. 

“Yes,” I answered, my voice saturated with relief. 

“You don’t sound angry that I tricked you.”

“I’m not.” My sudden high made me brave. What did it matter now? It would soon be over. Charlie and Renée would never be harmed, would never have to fear. I felt almost giddy. Some analytical part of my mind earned me that I was dangerously close to snapping from the stress. 

“How bizarre. You really mean it.” His dark eyes assessed me with interest. The irises were nearly black, with just a hint of ruby around the edges. Thirsty. “I will give your strange coven this much, you humans can be quite interesting. I guess I can see the draw of observing you. It’s amazing—some of you seem to have no sense of your own self-interest at all.”

He was standing a few feet from me, arms folded, looking at me curiously. There was no menace in his face or stance. He possessed the same unnerving beauty as the Cullens, sharpened as it was. The white skin, the circled eyes I’d grown so used to. He wore a pale blue, long-sleeved shirt and faded blue jeans. From a distance, his eyes were nearly the familiar black I’d seen on my first day in Forks high school, all those weeks ago.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that your friends will avenge you?” He asked, hopefully it seemed to me.

I prayed Alice was watching. “No, I don’t think so. At least, I don’t want them to.”

“Did you tell them that?” 

“I’m not sure.”

He frowned almost imperceptibly. “How can you not be sure?”

“I can’t be sure if they’re watching.”

His expression remained confused for a second, but cleared. “Ah, I see. The small Asian one—Victoria mentioned that she might be clairvoyant now. Do you think they will honour your wishes?” His voice was a little harder now, a hint of sarcasm marring his polite tone. 

“I hope so.”

“Hmm. Well, our hopes differ then. You see, this was all just a little too easy, too quick. To be quite honest, I’m disappointed, Bella. I expected a much greater challenge. And it turns out, I only needed a little luck.” He shook his head ruefully.

I waited in silence. 

“When Victoria couldn’t get to your father, I had her find out more about you. There was no sense running all over the planet chasing you down when I could comfortably wait for you in a place of my choosing. So, after I talked to Victoria, I decided to come to Phoenix to pay your mother a visit. I’d heard you say you were going home. At first, I never dreamed that you meant it. But then I wondered. Humans can be very predictable; they like to be somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. And wouldn’t it be the perfect ploy, to go to the last place you should be when you’re hiding—the place that you’d said you’d be.

“But of course I wasn’t sure, it was just a hunch. I usually get a feeling about the prey that I’m hunting, a sixth sense, if you will. I got to your mother’s house, and you can imagine my disappointment when I found that she wasn’t there. I did find those delightful home movies of yours—made for some entertaining viewing. Who knew you were such a prima ballerina?

“Then your coven got on a plane to Phoenix. Victoria was monitoring them for me, naturally; in a game with this many players, I couldn’t be working alone. And so they told me what I’d hoped, that you were here after all. I was prepared, having already seen your tape collection. From there it was simply a matter of bluff.

“Very easy, you know, not really up to my usual standards. So, you see, I’m hoping you’re wrong about your friends. I would love to see them again.”

I didn’t answer. The bravado was wearing off. I sensed that he was coming to the end of his gloat. It wasn’t meant for me anyway. There was no glory in beating me, a weak human.

“Would you mind, very much, if I left a little message of my own for the Cullens?”

He took a step back and touched a palm-sized digital video camera balanced carefully on top of the stereo. A small, red light indicated that it was already running. He adjusted it a few times, and widened the frame. I stared at him in horror.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think they’ll be able to resist hunting me after they watch this. And I wouldn’t want them to miss anything. It was all for them, of course. You’re simply a human, who unfortunately was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and indisputably running with the wrong crowd, I might add.”

He stepped towards me, smiling. “Before we begin…”

I felt a curl of nausea in the pit of my stomach as he spoke. This was something I had not anticipated.

“I would just like to rub it in, just a little bit. The answer was there all along, and I was so afraid they would see that and ruin my fun. It happened once, oh, ages ago. The one and only time my prey escaped me.

“You see, the vampire that was so stupidly attached to this little victim made the choice that your Cullens were too weak to make. When the old one knew I was after his little friend, he stole her from the asylum where he worked—I will _never_ understand the obsession some vampires seem to form with you humans—and as soon as he freed her, he made her safe. She didn’t even seem to notice the pain, poor little creature. She’d been stuck in that black hole of a cell for so long. A hundred years earlier and she would have been burned at the stake for her visions. In the nineteen twenties it was the asylum and the shock treatments. When she opened her eyes, strong with her fresh youth, it was like she’d never seen the sun before. The old vampire made her a strong new vampire, and there was no reason for me to touch her then.” He sighed. “I destroyed the old one in vengeance.”

“Alice,” I breathed, astonished.

“Yes, your little friend. I _was_ surprised to see her in the clearing. So I guess her coven ought to be able to derive some comfort from this experience. I get you, but they get her. The one victim who escaped me, quite an honour, actually.

“And she did smell so delicious. I still regret that I never got to taste...She smelled even better than you. Sorry—I don’t mean to be offensive. You have a very nice smell. Floral, somehow.”

He took a step toward me, until he was just inches away. He lifted a lock of my hair and sniffed at it delicately. Then he gently patted the strand back into place, and I felt his cool fingertips against my throat. He reached up to stroke my cheek once quickly with his thumb, his face curious. I wanted so badly to run, but I was frozen. I couldn’t even flinch away. 

“No,” he murmured to himself as he dropped his hand. “I don’t understand.” He sighed. “Well, I suppose we should get on with it. And then I can call your friends and tell them where to find you, and my little message.”

I was definitely feeling sick now. There was pain coming, I could see it in his eyes. It wouldn’t be enough for him to win, to feed and go. There would be no quick end like I’d been counting on. My knees began to shake, and I was afraid I was going to fall. 

He stepped back, and began to circle, casually, as if he were trying to get a better view of a statue in a museum. His face was still open and friendly as he decided where to start. 

Then he curled forward, into a deep crouch I recognised, and his pleasant smile slowly widened, grew, till it wasn’t a smile at all but a contortion of teeth, exposed and glistening. 

I couldn’t help myself—I tried to run. As useless as I knew it would be, as weak as my knees already were, panic took over and I bolted for the emergency door. 

He was in front of me in a flash. I didn’t see if he used his hand or his foot, it was too fast. A crushing blow struck my chest—I felt myself flying backward, and then heard the crunch as my head bashed into the mirrors. The glass buckled, some of the pieces shattering and splintering on the floor beside me.

I was too stunned to feel the pain. I couldn’t breathe yet. 

He walked toward me slowly. 

“That’s a very nice effect,” he said, examining the mess of glass, his voice friendly again. “I thought this room would be visually dramatic for my little film. That’s why I picked this place to meet you. It’s perfect, isn’t it? The red against the crushed mirror…beautiful.”

I ignored him, scrambling on my hands and knees, crawling toward the other door. 

He was over me at once, his foot stepping down hard on my leg. I heard the sickening snap before I felt it. But then I _did_ feel it, and I couldn’t hold back my scream of agony. I twisted up to reach for my leg, and he was standing next to me, smiling.

“Would you like to rethink your last request?” He asked pleasantly. His toe nudged my broken leg and I heard a piercing scream. With a shock, I realised it was mine. 

“Wouldn’t you rather have your friends try to find me?” He prompted. 

“No!” I croaked. “No, Alice, don’t—“ and then something smashed into my face, throwing me back into the broken mirrors. 

Over the pain of my leg, I felt the sharp rip across my scalp where the glass cut into it. And then the warm wetness began to spread through my hair with alarming speed. I could feel it soaking the shoulder of my shirt, hear it dripping on the wood below. The smell of it twisted my stomach. I convulsed, body curling in on itself as I vomited. 

Through the nausea and dizziness I saw something that gave me a sudden, final shred of hope. His eyes, merely intent before, now burned with an uncontrollable need. The blood—spreading crimson across my shirt, mixing with the vomit on the floor—was driving him mad with thirst. No matter his original intentions, he couldn’t draw this out much longer. 

Let it be quick now, was all I could hope as the flow of blood from my head sucked my consciousness away with it. My eyes were closing. 

I heard, as if from underwater, the final growl of the hunger. I could see through the long tunnels my eyes had become, his dark shape coming toward me. With my last effort, my hand instinctively raised to protect my face. My eyes closed, and I drifted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised the other day that you guys can see what fics I've bookmarked and I'm horrified. Excuse me while I go private a bunch of them to hide them from my irl friends who know I own this account. I've already exposed myself by telling them I write fanfiction, they don't need to know anymore. 
> 
> Do you guys have any favourite fic tropes? I'm a slut for identity reveals, particularly in non-power/non-canon aus. Like those ones where a pair of people know each other as internet friends or something, and also irl, but don't know its the same person? Ughhh perfection.


	24. The Angel

As I drifted, I dreamed. 

Where I floated, under the dark water, I heard the happiest sound my mind could conjure up—as beautiful, as uplifting, as it was ghastly. It was another snarl; a deeper, wilder roar that rang with fury. 

I was brought back, almost to the surface, by a sharp pain slashing my upraised hand, but I couldn’t find my way back far enough to open my eyes. 

And then I knew I was dead. 

Because, through the heavy water, I heard the sound of an angel calling my name, calling me to heaven. 

“Oh no, Bella, no!” The angel's voice cried in horror.

Behind that longed for sound was another noise—an awful tumult that my mind shined away from. A vicious bass growling, a shocking snapping sound, and a high keening, suddenly breaking off…

“Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, Bella, please!” she begged. 

Yes. I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn’t find my lips. 

“Carlisle!” The angel called, agony in her perfect voice. “Bella, Bella, no, oh please no—Esme, shit, she’s still bleeding, get Edward and Jasper out of here! Now!” She interrupted herself, voice panicked. 

The angel shouldn’t panic, it was wrong. I tried to find her, to tell her everything was fine, but that water was so deep, it was pressing on me, and I couldn’t breathe. 

There was a point of pressure against my head. It hurt. Then, as that pain broke through the darkness to me, other pains came, stronger pains. I cried out, gasping, breaking through the dark pool.

“Bella!” The angel cried. 

“She’s lost a lot of blood, but the head wound isn’t deep,” a calm voice informed me. “Watch out for her leg, it’s broken.”

The angel made a strange strangled sound. 

I felt a sharp stab in my side. This couldn’t be heaven, could it? There was too much pain for that.

“Some ribs, too, I think,” the methodical voice continued. 

But the sharp pains were fading. There was a new pain, a scalding pain in my hand that was overshadowing everything else. 

Someone was burning me. 

“Rosalie.” I tried to tell her, but my voice was so heavy and slow. I couldn’t understand myself. 

“Bella, you’re going to be fine. Can you hear me, Bella? I’m here for you.”

“Rosalie,” I tried again. My voice was a little clearer. 

“Yes, I’m here.”

“It hurts,” I whimpered.

“I know, Bella, I know” —and then away from me, furious—“can’t you do anything?”

“My bag, please...hold your breath Alice, it will help,” Carlisle promised. 

“Alice?” I groaned. 

“She’s here, she knew where to find you.” 

“My hand hurts,” I tried to tell her.

“I know, Bella, Carlisle will give you something, it will stop.”

“My hand is burning!” I screamed, finally breaking through the last of the darkness, my eyes fluttering open. I couldn’t see her face, something dark and warm was clouding my eyes. Why couldn’t they see the fire and put it out?

Her voice was frantic. “Bella?”

“The fire! Someone stop the fire!” I screamed as it burned me.

“Carlisle! Her hand!”

“He bit her.” Carlisle’s voice was no longer calm, it was appalled. 

I heard Rosalie catch her breath in horror. 

“Rose, she’s going to become one of us.” It was Alice's voice, close by my head. Cold fingers brushed at the wetness in my eyes. 

“No!” Rosalie snarled. “Not like this. She can’t do it like this. She deserved a choice.” 

“Alice,” I moaned. 

“There may be a chance,” Carlisle said. 

“What?” Rosalie’s voice was shaking. 

“See if you can suck the venom back out. The wound is fairly clean.” As Carlisle spoke, I could feel more pressure on my head, something poking and pulling at my scalp. The pain of it was lost in the pain of the fire. 

“Will that work?” Alice sounded strained. 

“I don’t know,” Carlisle said. “But we have to hurry.”

“Carlisle, I…” Rosalie hesitated. “I don’t think she could survive if she lost any more blood.” There was agony in her beautiful voice again. 

Carlisle sounded impatient when he spoke again. “Rose, either way, I can’t help you. I have to get the bleeding to stop here. She’ll become one of us if you don’t.” 

I writhed in the grip of the fiery torture, the movement making the pain in my leg flare sickeningly. 

“Dad!” I sobbed. “Daddy, I’m sorry.” I realised my eyes were closed again. I opened them, desperate to find someone. My eyes darted around the ceiling, gradually settling on the shadow next to me. I could barely see, tears and blood blocking my vision, but I could just make out Rosalie’s perfect face, staring at me, twisted into a mask of indecision and pain.

“Alice, get me something to brace her leg!” Carlisle was bent over me, working on my head. “Rosalie, you must do it now, or it will be too late.”

Rosalie’s face was drawn. I watched her eyes as the doubt was suddenly replaced with blazing determination. Her jaw tightened. I get her cool, strong fingers on my burning hand, locking it in place. Then her head bent over it, and her cold lips pressed against my skin. 

At first the pain was worse. I screamed and thrashed against the cool hands that held me back. I heard Alice's voice, trying to calm me. Something heavy held my leg to the floor, and Carlisle had my head locked in the vice of his stone arms. 

Then, slowly, my writhing calmed as my hand grew more and more numb. The fire was dulling, focusing into an ever-smaller point.

I felt my consciousness slipping as the pain subsided. I was afraid to fall into the black waters again, afraid that I would lose them in the darkness. 

“Rosalie,” I tried to say, but I couldn’t hear my voice. They could hear me. 

“She’s right here, Bella.” 

“Stay, Rosalie, stay with me…”

“I will.” Her voice was strained, but somehow triumphant. 

I sighed contentedly. The fire was gone, the other pains filled by a sleepiness seeping through my body. 

“Is it all out?” Carlisle asked from somewhere far away. 

“Her blood tastes clean,” Rosalie said quietly. “I can taste the morphine.”

“Bella?” Carlisle called to me. 

I tried to answer. “Mmmm?”

“Is the fire gone?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “Thank you, Rosalie.” 

“Of course, Bella.”

“I guess I’m the bigger stereotype,” I mumbled. “Bury your gays and all.” 

I heard her laugh thickly, weak with relief. “Not quite buried yet, Bella.” 

“Bella?” Carlisle asked again.

I frowned; I wanted to sleep. “What?”

“Where is your mother?”

“In Florida,” I sighed. “He tricked me, Carlisle. He watched our videos.” The outrage in my voice was pitifully frail. 

But that reminded me. 

“Alice.” I tried to open my eyes. “Alice, the video—he knew you, Alice, he knew where you came from.” I meant to speak urgently, but my voice was feeble. “I smell gasoline,” I added, surprised through the haze in my brain. 

“It’s time to move her,” Carlisle said. 

“No, I want to sleep,” I complained. 

“You can sleep, Bella, I’ll carry you,” Rosalie soothed me.

And I was in her arms, cradled against her chest—floating, all the pain done. 

“Sleep now, Bella.” Were the last words I heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so a massive thing in the original was Edward being like, nooooo Bella we can't have sex because I'll KILL you (and also religion I guess). That's not going to be as much a thing between Rose and Bella? So I was wondering what you guys would prefer when it came to them actually having sex: include it in the fic, or a fade to black type thing? I don't mind either way, and I can always put warnings so people can skip over if there's a tie! 
> 
> Coming up next, on the MollyMauler channel: Hospital time! Blair makes a onscreen appearance!


	25. Intervention

My eyes opened to a bright, white light. I was in an unfamiliar room, a white room. The wall beside me was covered in long vertical blinds; over my head, the glaring lights blinded me. I was propped up on a hard uneven bed—a bed with rails. The pillows were flat and lumpy. There was an annoying beeping sound somewhere close by. I hoped that meant I was still alive. Death shouldn’t be this uncomfortable. 

My hands were all twisted up with clear tubes, and something was taped across my face, under my nose. I lifted my hand to rip it off. 

“No, you don’t.” Cool fingers caught my hand. 

“Rosalie?” I turned my head slightly, and her exquisite face was just inches from mine, an indulgent smile on her face. I realised again that I was alive, this time with gratitude and elation. “Oh, Rosalie, I’m so sorry! Are you all okay?”

“Shhhh,” she shushed me. “We’re all okay. You don’t have to apologise, James tricked you. It’s not your fault at all.”

“What happened?” I couldn’t remember clearly, and my mind rebelled against me as I tried to recall. 

“You got hurt at the ballet studio. It was very close—if we’d been there a second later you’d probably be dead, or a vampire, right now.” Her voice was calm, but it sounded forced. 

“I was so stupid, Rosalie. I thought he had my mom.”

“He tricked us all, Bella,” she soothed me, resting her cold hand on my feverish forehead. 

“I need to call Charlie and Renée,” I realised through the haze. 

“Alice called them. Renée is here—well, here in the hospital. She’s getting something to eat right now. One of your friends—Blair, I think—is also waiting to see you, but she’s been avoiding your mother so I’m not sure where she is right now.” A smile danced around her lips as she said the last part. 

“She’s here?” I tried to sit up, not really knowing who I was talking about, but the spinning in my head accelerated and her hand pushed me gently back down onto the pillows. 

“Your mom will be back soon,” she promised. “And you need to stay still.”

“But what did you tell her?” I panicked. I had no interest in being soothed. “Why did you tell her I’m here?”

“You got into a car crash on your way to see Blair. Someone hit your car and drove off—it’s a miracle we found you in time.”

I sighed, and it hurt. I stared down at my body under the sheet, the huge lump that was my leg. 

“How bad am I?” I asked. 

“You have a broken leg, four broken ribs, some cracks in your skull, bruises covering every inch of your skin, and you’ve lost a lot of blood. They gave you a few transfusions.” She winced. “We had to cut up your hand as well. The bite would’ve raised too many questions. I’m sorry about that.” 

I hummed. “How did you do it?”

She looked at me in confusion. “What?”

“You sucked the venom out. How did you do it? Alice said the taste of human blood makes you guys insane.”

Rosalie smiled weakly. “Remember how I said I’d give you the full power rundown?” 

I nodded. 

“Mine is self-control. Lame, I know. But that was the first time I’ve ever tasted human blood—I’ve always resisted it before. It was hard to stop but...I’m probably the only one who could have done it. Except Carlisle, maybe, but he was stitching you up. Everyone else was struggling to even be in the studio. Jasper and Edward had to leave entirely.” 

“Do I taste as good as I smell?” I smiled in response. That hurt my face.

“Not funny, Bella. I’m still furious at Alice and Edward for dragging you into this, and getting you hurt.” She raised her eyes to the ceiling, and sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” I apologised. 

Her eyes flashed back to mine. “It’s not your fault,” she repeated.

I flinched at the intensity of her gaze. She noticed, and her expression softened. 

“I’m sorry, Bella. I made them leave, which means you don’t have to deal with them yet, but it also means I don’t have anyone to yell at. It’s a double-edged sword. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

I didn’t respond. Some very unpleasant memories were beginning to come back to me. I shuddered, and then winced. 

She was instantly anxious. “Bella, what’s wrong?”

“What happened to James?”

“After I pulled him off you, Emmet, Alice and Jasper took care of him.” There was a fierce note of regret in her voice. 

This confused me. “I didn’t see Emmet and Jasper there.”

“Jasper was only there for a few seconds. Enough to overwhelm James, then run out. Emmet was setting up a fire while we helped you.”

“But you stayed.”

“Yes, I stayed.”

“And Alice, and Carlisle…” I said in wonder. 

“They care about you a lot, you know.”

A flash of painful images from the last time I’d seen Alice reminded me of something. “Did Alice see the tape?” I asked anxiously. 

“Yes.” A new sound darkened her voice, a tone of sheer hatred. 

“She was always in the dark, that’s why she didn’t remember.”

“I know. She understands now.” Her hand was white-knuckled around the rails of my bed. 

I tried to reach her hand with my own, but something stopped me. I glanced down to see the IV pulling at my hand. 

“Ugh.” I winced. 

“What is it?” She asked anxiously—distracted, but not enough. The bleakness did not entirely leave her eyes. 

“Needles,” I explained, looking away from the one in my hand. I concentrated on a warped ceiling tile and tried to breathe deeply despite the ache in my ribs. 

“Afraid of a needle,” she muttered to herself under her breath, shaking her head. “Oh, a sadistic vampire, intent on torturing her to death, sure, no problem, she runs off to meet him. An IV, on the other hand…”

I rolled my eyes. I was pleased to discover that this reaction, at least, was pain-free. I decided to change the subject. 

“Why are _you_ here?” I asked.

She stared at me, first confusion and then hurt touching her eyes. Her brows pulled together as she frowned. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” I protested, embarrassed by my harsh phrasing. “No, no, I meant, why does my mother think you’re here? I need to have my story straight before she gets back.”

“Oh,” she said, and her forehead smoothed back into marble. “Edward lent you the Mercedes to drive down, but I’d been working on it the past few days. He didn’t ask me first, and you were gone by the time I realised, but it wasn’t ready to drive yet.” Her eyes were so earnest and sincere, I almost believed her myself. “Nothing that would cause any immediate problems, but the alternator was broken, so the battery would run out a lot faster. We couldn’t get you on the phone, so Carlisle and I drove down so I could try to sort it out. We tracked the car with the GPS, and found you on the side of the road. You must’ve taken a break somewhere on the way down, because we caught up with you just after the crash.”

I thought about it for a moment. “There are a few flaws with that story. Like no destroyed car.”

“Not really,” she said, grinning. “Alice had a bit too much fun fabricating evidence. It’s all been taken care of very convincingly, you have nothing to worry about.” She touched my shoulder gently. “Your only job now is to heal.”

I wasn’t so lost to the soreness or the fog of medication that I didn’t respond to her touch. The beeping of the monitor jumped around erratically. I tried to repress the blush I felt rising in my cheeks. 

“That’s embarrassing,” I muttered to myself. 

She giggled nervously. “I completely understand, Bella, don’t worry. It’s natural to have an aversion to touch after the experiences you’ve had. I won’t take it personally.”

I gaped at her. “That’s not—I didn’t…”

“It’s fine, Bella, really. I’ll be careful to let you know if I’m planning on touching you from now on,” she assured me, woefully misunderstanding my reaction. 

“I promise, that’s not the prob—“ I began hurriedly, but she interrupted me with a shushing gesture. 

“I think I hear your mother,” she said, head snapping to the door.

“Don’t leave me,” I replied instinctively, an irrational surge of panic flooding through me. 

She read the terror in my eyes for a short second, and another flash of pity appeared on her face. “I won’t,” she promised. “I’ll take a nap in the corner.”

She moved from the hard plastic chair by my side to the turquoise faux-leather recliner at the foot of my bed, leaning it all the way back, and closing her eyes. She was perfectly still. 

“Don’t forget to breathe,” I whispered sarcastically. She took a deep breath, her eyes still closed. 

I could hear my mother now. She was talking to someone, maybe a nurse? And she sounded tired and upset. I wanted to jump out of bed and run to her, to calm her, promise that everything was fine. But I wasn’t in any sort of shape for jumping, so I waited impatiently. 

The door opened a crack, and she peered through. 

“Mom!” I whispered, my voice full of love and relief. 

She took in Rosalie’s still form on the recliner, and tiptoed to my bed. 

“She never leaves, does she?” she mumbled to herself. 

“Mom, I’m so glad to see you!”

She bent down to hug me gently, and I felt warm tears falling on my cheeks.

“Bella, I was so upset!”

“I’m sorry, Mom. But everything’s fine now, it’s okay,” I comforted her. 

“I’m just glad to finally see your eyes open.” She sat on the edge of my bed. 

I suddenly realised I didn’t have any idea _when_ it was. “How long have they been closed?”

“It’s Friday, hon, you’ve been out for a while.”

“Friday?” I was shocked. I tried to remember what day it had been when...but I didn’t want to think about that. “Why is Blair still here? She shouldn’t be in the hospital still, should she?”

Her nose wrinkled disgruntledly. “She said she stayed to be here for you. They had to keep you sedated for a while—you’ve got a lot of injuries.” 

“I know.” I could feel them. 

“You’re very lucky Dr. Cullen found you. He’s such a nice man...very young. And he looks more like a model than a doctor,” she giggled slightly.

“You met Carlisle?”

“Of course, Bella. He’s been staying here to keep an eye on Rosalie. She’s a lovely girl.”

“She is,” I agreed wholeheartedly. 

Renée glanced over her shoulder at Rosalie, lying with her eyes closed in the chair. “Between you and me, Bella, I think she feels like this is her fault—or at least partly her fault.” She frowned slightly. 

I looked at her questioningly 

“She’s been awfully protective of you, and I think I caught her on the phone to her brother, arguing. There were a lot of comments about him putting you at risk because he was too self-centred to ask for her opinion. I thought it was awfully harsh, but…” she shrugged. “I suppose I don’t know much about the situation.” 

I cringed, and then moaned. 

“What hurts?” she demanded anxiously, turning back to me. Rosalie’s eyes flashed to my face. 

“It’s fine,” I assured them. “I just have to remember not to move.” Rosalie lapsed back into her phony slumber. 

I took advantage of my mother’s momentary distraction to keep the subject from returning to the Cullens infighting. Renées gossipy nature was funny, on occasion, but right now the topic of her speculation was listening to our conversation. “Where’s Phil?” I asked quickly. 

“Florida—oh, Bella! You’ll never guess! Just when we were about to leave, the best news!”

“Phil got signed?” I asked. 

“Yes! How do you know? The Suns, can you believe it?”

“That’s great, Mom,” I said as enthusiastically as I could manage, though I had little idea what that meant. 

“And you’ll like Jacksonville so much,” she gushed while I stared at her vacantly. “I was a little bit worried when Phil started talking about Akron, what with the snow and everything, because you know I hate the cold, but now Jacksonville! It’s always sunny, and the humidity really isn’t _that_ bad. We found the cutest house, yellow with white trim, and a porch just like in an old movie, and this huge oak tree, and it’s just a few minutes from the ocean, and you’ll have your own bathroom—“

“Wait, Mom!” I interrupted her rambling. Rosalie still had her eyes closed, but her expression looked far too uncomfortable to pass as asleep. “What are you talking about? I’m not going to Florida. I live in Forks.”

“But you don’t have to anymore, silly,” she laughed dismissively. “Phil will be able to be around so much more now...we’ve talked about it a lot, and what I’m going to do is trade off on the away games, half the time with you, half the time with him. You’ll cope fine on your own, you can take care of yourself.”

“Mom.” I hesitated, wondering how best to be diplomatic about this. “I _want_ to live in Forks. I’m already settled in at school, and I have a group of friends”—she glanced suspiciously toward Rosalie again when I reminded her of friends, so I tried another direction—“and Charlie needs me. He’s just all alone up there, and he can’t cook _at all_.” I felt guilty for the lie, but Renée always embraced any perceived failure on Charlie’s part, so I knew she wouldn’t question it.

“You want to stay in Forks?” she asked, bewildered. The idea was inconceivable to her. And then her eyes flicked back toward Rosalie. “Why on earth would you want that?”

“I told you—school, Charlie—ouch!” I’d shrugged. Not a good idea. 

Her hands fluttered helplessly over me, trying to find a safe place to pat. She made do with my forehead; it was unbandaged. I tried not to flinch at the sensation of hot hands against my skin. 

“Bella, honey, you hate Forks,” she reminded me impatiently. 

“It’s not so bad, Mom.”

She frowned and looked back and forth between Rosalie and me, this time very deliberately. 

“Is it this girl?” she whispered. 

I felt my face scowl involuntarily, but tried to mask it quickly. “Mom, it’s not a girl. I just kinda like Forks. I’m comfortable there, and I’ve only just settled in. I don’t really want to move somewhere else.”

She looked at me sympathetically. “It’s alright Bella, I understand what crushes are like. But you shouldn’t let it shape your life—Charlie will be fine on his own.”

“Mom, seriously. I’d rather stay in Forks.”

Renée shook her head and sighed. “Bella, you know it would be better for you to live with me—“ 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, interrupting her. She pulled it out, and glanced guiltily over her shoulder at the big, round clock on the wall. 

“Do you need to go?” 

She bit her lip. “Phil’s supposed to call in a little while..I didn’t know when you were going to wake up…”

“No problem, Mom.” I tried to tone down the relief so she wouldn’t get her feelings hurt. “I won’t be alone.”

“I’ll be back soon. I’ve been sleeping here, you know,” she announced, proud of herself. 

“Oh, Mom, you don’t have to do that! You can sleep at home—I'll never notice.” The swirl of painkillers in my brain was making it hard to concentrate even now, though, apparently, I’d been sleeping for days. 

“I was too nervous,” she admitted sheepishly. “There’s been some crime in the neighbourhood, and I don’t like being there alone.”

“Crime?” I asked in alarm. 

“Someone broke into that dance studio around the corner from the house and burned it to the ground—there’s nothing left at all! And they left a stolen car right out in front. Do you remember when you used to dance there, honey?” 

“I remember.” I shivered, and winced. 

“I can stay, baby, if you need me.”

“No, Mom, I’ll be fine. Blair will be here soon, and Rosalie will be hanging around as well.”

She looked like that might be why she wanted to stay. “I’ll be back tonight.” It sounded as much like a warning as it sounded like a promise, and she glanced at Rosalie as she said it. 

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, Bella. Try to be more careful when you drive, honey, I don’t want to lose you.”

Rosalie’s eyes stayed closed, but I could’ve sworn I saw anger flash across her face. 

A nurse came bustling in then to check all my tubes and wires. My mother kissed my forehead, patted my gauze-wrapped hand, and left. 

The nurse was checking the readout on my heart monitor.

“Are you feeling anxious, honey?” Your heart rate got a little high there.” 

“I’m fine,” I assured her.

“I’ll tell your RN that you’re awake. He’ll be in to see you in a minute.”

As soon as she closed the door, Rosalie was at my side. 

“You stole a car?” I raised my eyebrows. 

She smirked. “We had to make it look like a proper crime scene.”

“Of course. You didn’t just want to steal a car.” 

“Alice is the car-stealer in our family. The rest of us just sit back and pray she doesn’t get arrested.”

“I think it’s impossible for her to be arrested, no? Surely she can see the police coming from a mile away.”

Rosalie laughed. “You would think that, wouldn’t you? But she’s surprisingly inattentive when she’s focused on something. Jasper only got a law degree so he’d be able to get her out the next time she gets locked up.” Her voice was filled with good-natured exasperation. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Sounds like she gets on your nerves a bit.” I joked. 

Rosalie’s smile disappeared from her face, and I tensed. “Alice's one-track mind has a tendency to put other people in danger. I can handle it when it’s my family, but now…she got you hurt, because of her and Edward’s refusal to leave you alone.” 

“She didn’t know this would happen,” I said placatingly, unnerved by the black rage in her eyes. 

“But if she’d respected our wishes—“

“I’d be dead.” I interrupted. “James would have killed me the instant he crossed my scent in town. Yes, they shouldn’t have been so pushy, but I’d be dead three times over if Edward and Alice had not gotten involved.”

“Three?” Rosalie asked sceptically.

“Van, Port Angeles, James. That’s three.”

Rosalie opened her mouth and closed it, looking disgruntled. Before she could say anything else, another nurse walked purposefully into the room. Rosalie sat still as stone as he took in my expression with a practiced eye before turning to the monitors. 

“Time for more pain meds?” he asked kindly, tapping the IV feed. 

“No, no,” I mumbled, trying to keep the agony out of my voice. “I don’t need anything.” I couldn’t afford to close my eyes now. 

“No need to be brave, Bella. It’s better if you don’t get too stressed out; you need to rest.” He waited, but I just shook my head. 

“Okay,” he sighed. “Hit the call button when you’re ready.”

He gave Rosalie a stern look, and threw one more anxious glance at the machinery, before leaving. 

Rosalie stood up again. “I’ll head out for a bit.”

“What?” I asked, confused. “Where are you going?”

“Your friend is on her way here, I figured you’d want to talk to her alone.” She smiled gently. 

“Oh. Well. Yeah, thank you.” I stumbled over my words. 

“I’ll see you soon, Bella. Stay out of trouble.” She came to stand next to my bed, placing her cool hands on my forehead once again. 

I frowned up at her, and stuck my tongue out. “Don’t be rude. I’m an invalid.”

“And yet, I’m sure you could find a way.” She backed away, and made her way out the room. Just after she walked out the door, I heard a few quiet voices, and Blair stuck her head in. 

“Hi bitch. Is the slave driver still here?”

I rolled my eyes. “You know she’s gone. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah, you got me. I just wanted to call her a slave driver. Which you didn’t deny this time. I’m glad to see Forks gave you some perspective.” Blair marched over to the chair by my bed, and slumped down in it. “Next time you want to support me when I’m in hospital, don’t get yourself stuck here too.”

I could see the slight strain in her grin, and winced. “I’m sorry. You really don’t have to stay. We could have called.”

“Like your mom would have let you. She probably would have taken your phone in the name of rest and relaxation. I wasn’t going to leave you locked in a room with her for a week.” Her smile became more genuine, but also far more devious. “But imagine my surprise when I found you already had a gal pal to keep you company!”

I groaned. “Blair…”

“Go on then. What’s her deal? How long have you been dating?” 

“We’re not dating.”

She looked at my pityingly. “And Renée doesn’t use you like an indentured servant. Come on, how do you know her?”

“Her brother and sister are in some of my classes. They kept trying to set us up.” I tried to keep my voice level. 

“And you’re not together because…?” 

“They were complete assholes about it, Blair. They acted like they knew us better than we did, like it was only a matter of time before we saw the light. We hadn’t even fucking interacted and they were practically planning the wedding. Neither of us wanted to date but they didn’t care.”

Blair rolled her eyes. “Forgive me, Izzy, for not believing that the girl who waited by your bedside for days after driving down the West Coast to save you from a dead car battery, isn’t interested.”

I blushed. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure.”

“She just feels responsible for me.”

“Uh huh. The Nile isn’t just a river in Egypt, babe.” 

“Oh, fuck off.” 

“Izzy, darling Izzy, give me one good reason you haven’t climbed that girl like a tree.”

“She’s shorter than me,” I muttered, crossing my arms. 

“Not answering my question.”

I huffed. “I don’t want to. Her whole family is pressuring us into it, and I don’t want to give them the satisfaction when they’ve been such massive dicks.”

Blair stared at me, her patented _my best friend is a fucking idiot_ expression on her face. 

“What?” I snapped. 

“Izzy, the lack of sunlight is rotting your brain.” 

“Leave me alone.”

“No, no, this is hilarious. You’re refusing to do something you want to do because what...someone told you to do it?”

“ _Forced_ me to,” I emphasised. 

She laughed. “Izzy, if I put a burger in front of you, as well as a plate full of sprouts covered in jam, and said ‘you have to eat the burger, you’ll enjoy it’ and then you ate the sprouts, _you’re_ the moron.”

“It’s a lot more complicated—“

“No, Izzy, it’s not.” She interrupted me, her voice serious. “Listen, I get that Forks was the first time your every move wasn’t being dictated for you, but not everyone is your Mom. Sometimes people tell you to do things, because it will genuinely make you happy.” She lifted her hands up defensively at the anger on my face. “That’s not to say that they weren’t dicks. But you shouldn’t stop yourself from doing fun stuff, because people told you to do the fun stuff.”

I frowned at her. “I don’t like smart Blair. Where’s my dumbass friend gone.”

“She died in surgery.” Blair said, voice somber. “I am but a ghost, who will never move on until this hospital is burnt to the ground.”

“I’ve got an in with the arsonist who fucked up my ballet school,” I joked. “I could give them a call?”

Blair’s face brightened instantly. “Excellent! Does that mean I can leave now?”

“You’ll have to spring me too.”

“Hmmm.” She tapped her forefinger against her chin. “You’re too heavy. You’ll slow down my escape.” 

“You wouldn’t save your oldest friend? Harsh, dude.”

“My oldest friend who abandoned me for rain and moss? I think the fuck not, Isabella.” Her face softened. “I am glad you went though, Izzy. I miss you, but it’s good to know you’re safe.”

“I was safe before,” I said in protest. If only she knew how dangerous Forks had been.

She shook her head sympathetically. “Maybe safe wasn’t the right word. Just—away from Renée. In a house where it doesn’t fall on you to cook, clean, do the bills…” She wiggled her eyebrows. “A place where apparently leggy blondes crush on you.”

I laughed. “She doesn’t have a crush on me.”

Blair sighed. “I can only use the Nile joke once in a conversation, Izzy. Just accept it, it’s easier.”

“There’s nothing to accept.”

“Oh my god, Renée wants to claw Rosalie’s eyes out, that should be evidence enough.” 

“I mean...I’m sure she doesn’t…”

“Your mother has hated every single potential girlfriend you’ve ever had. Rosalie is no exception.”

I heard someone clear their throat by the door, and we both turned to see Rosalie herself standing there awkwardly. 

“Um, hi? I didn’t mean to interrupt, I thought the nurse said you’d left…”

Blair smirked. “No problem. We’re all good here.” She turned back to me, and tugged me into a gentle hug, whispering in my ear. “If you aren’t fucking that girl in a month, Izzy, I’ll come up to Washington and kill you myself.”

I tried desperately not to blush, well aware that the girl in question could hear every word being said. As Blair pulled back, I caught sight of Rosalie’s shell shocked expression. 

“Bye bitch! Get well soon!” Blair called as she skipped toward the door. “Next time I see you it better not be in a fucking hospital!” She nudged Rosalie companionably as she passed her. “Nice to meet you.”

After she had gone, me and Rosalie stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other uncomfortably. I cracked first.

“So, uh...how much of that did you hear?” I asked nervously.

Rosalie swallowed. “Not much.”

I nodded in relief. “That’s good.”

There was another pause, and she forced a grin.

“I guess we’re doomed to a life of matchmaking, huh?”

“I’m sure Edward will be delighted.” I replied. 

She scowled. “He shouldn’t have put you at risk.”

“Rosalie, we’ve been over this. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for him.”

“If he hadn’t been so desperate to set me up, you wouldn’t have been at risk.” 

I noticed the phrasing of her words. “It’s not your fault either.”

“I’m the reason they dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t attack me. James did.”

Her jaw tightened. “But if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have become involved in our family in the first place. It was my responsibility to keep you out of it.” 

I tried to shake my head, but the movement made me wince. 

“Bella?” She was at my side in an instant. “Bella, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” I said, but my point was undermined slightly by a whimper as I shifted again.

“I don’t believe you,” she said gently.

“I’m not going back to sleep.”

“You need rest. Arguing with me isn’t good for you.”

“So give in,” I hinted. 

“Nice try.” She reached for the button. 

“No!”

She ignored me.

“Yes?” The speaker on the wall squawked. 

“I think we’re ready for more pain medication,” she said calmly. 

“I’ll send in the nurse.” The voice sounded very bored. 

“I won’t take it,” I promised. 

“Bella,” she said soothingly. “You’re in pain, and you need to rest. We can argue once you’re okay. Now is not the time. Besides,” she looked toward the sack of fluids hanging beside my bed. “I don’t think they’re going to ask you to swallow anything.”

My heart rate started to climb. She read the fear in my eyes, and rubbed my shoulder comfortingly. 

“Bella, you’re in pain. I’ll be right here. They’re not going to put any more needles in you. You’ll be okay.”

“I’m not afraid of the needles,” I mumbled. “I’m afraid to close my eyes. I don’t want to be in the dark again.” 

She smiled gently, and took my face between her hands. “It’ll be okay, Bella. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

I whimpered quietly, trying not to cry. “I don’t want to be in the dark. I don’t want to go back.”

“Bella, I’ll be right here. The dark won’t hurt you. You just need to sleep, and then you can come home.” 

I shook my head. “I don’t want to.”

“Please, Bella. For me?” 

I opened my mouth to protest, when the nurse came in, brandishing a syringe. 

“Excuse me,” he said brusquely to Rosalie. 

“Would I be able to stay next to her?” Rosalie asked quietly. “She’s a bit stressed about the needle.” 

The nurse gave me a quick look over, registering the fear in my eyes, and nodded. “Of course. Please move to the other side of the bed, so I can administer the painkiller.” 

“Of course,” she replied, standing up and walking around. She wrapped her hands around mine, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles. “It’ll be okay, Bella. It’ll be okay.”

“Here you go.” The nurse smiled gently as he injected the medicine into my tube. “You’ll feel better now.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, politeness overcoming my fear. It didn’t take long. I could feel the drowsiness trickling through my bloodstream almost immediately. 

“That ought to do it,” he murmured as my eyelids drooped. 

He must have left the room, because something cold and smooth touched my face.

“Stay.” The world was slurred. 

“I will,” she promised. Her voice was beautiful. Like a lullaby. “I’ll be here as long as you need me. As long as I'm not putting you in danger..”

I tried to shake my head, but it was too heavy. “‘S not your fault,” I mumbled. 

I thought I saw her smile through my eyelashes. “Don’t worry about that now, Bella. You can argue with me when you wake up.”

I think I smiled. “Okay.” 

I wasn’t really there anymore. The delirium of the drugs was overwhelming me. I felt my lips move, without me telling them to. 

“Rosalie?” I struggled to pronounce her name clearly. 

“Yes, Bella?”

“I think Alice was right,” I mumbled. 

And then the darkness closed over me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I hope you guys like Blair. She’s essentially a stand in for us (I assume?) because she just kinda swans in to tell characters they’re being dumbasses.
> 
> We're nearly at the end! It's so close! Man, the fact that I started this like six months ago is insane. Just so you guys are aware, when I upload the epilogue for this, I will also upload the first chapter of the New Moon rewrite (title currently secret) at the same time, so you can start it immediately. 
> 
> Last call for things you want to see in New Moon! I can't guarantee I'll follow all your suggestions, but I'll definitely take it into account.


	26. An Occasion

Alice had been flitting around me for at least two hours, waxing and trimming and powdering my body, until it felt like my skin was covered in a thin film. In the days since my accident, she had repeatedly prostrated herself at my feet, apologising profusely for not only not seeing James' ploy, but also for dragging me into the whole mess in the first place. I'd only managed to convince her of my forgiveness when I enlisted her help to woo her sister—something I was now regretting. Every time I reached for the mirror, she slapped my hand away, chastising me like you would an overeager puppy. The sudden feeling of her cold hand against mind made me flinch, eyes slamming shut as memories flashed through my mind.

“No! Bad Bella!” Alices voice rang out. “You don’t get to see until I’m done!”

I opened my eyes again after a moment, heartbeat returning to normal, and gave her an irritated look. She seemingly hadn’t noticed my brief panic, and poked me with the mascara bottle. I rolled my eyes at her.

“Bella, you asked me to help. This is your own fault,” she reminded me. 

“I asked you to help me ask out your sister, not turn me into a barbie.” I couldn’t keep the whine out of my voice. 

Alice frowned. “Are you doubting my skills?”

“What?”

“Are you doubting my ability to make you look gorgeous?”

The anger in her eyes was playful, but genuine. “No, no, of course not, Alice. I’m just unsure if all this is really me…”

“Oh!” She exclaimed, voice suddenly buoyant. “You don’t have to worry about that! I promise you look excellent!”

I looked at her dubiously. “I still don’t understand why I have to go to _prom_. My dancing is dangerous for everyone involved.”

She sighed as she started to pull my hair back. “We’ve been over this. Rosalie, brought up with balls and tradition. You, very much not. You want to woo her? Appeal to what she thinks is an ideal courtship.”

I snorted. “Courtship? Pretty sure those weren’t with two girls.”

She tugged aggressively on a piece of my hair. “No, Bella, they weren’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that Rose wants the fairytale relationship.”

“I’m not sure I know how to do that.”

“She doesn’t need _all_ the traditions. But being asked out at a ball… She'll love it. I promise.”

“It’s a prom.”

“Bella, you’re making this very difficult for me.”

I grinned. “Sorry, Alice.”

There was quiet for a few minutes as she twisted my hair back into what felt like a Danny Zuko inspired quiff. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but it felt like there was a pompadour forming.

“Hey, Alice?” I asked. 

“How long until my friends get here?”

She didn’t answer for a moment. “About half an hour. They’re going to be a bit late—Jess is struggling to find the right bra for her dress.”

I laughed. “Good to know.”

I felt Alice stab bobby pins into my hair, and winced as they hit my scalp. 

“Don’t move!” She ordered. 

“But they hurt—“

“Don’t move!” 

I felt my eyes water as she continued to secure my hair. When she finished, I started to breathe a sigh of relief, and immediately had a coughing fit as she surrounded me with a cloud of hairspray. 

“Alice!” I wheezed. “Stop!” 

“Bella, it needs to stay in!”

“I can’t breathe!”

The hairspray immediately shut off. “Ah. Yes. That’s a requirement for you. I’m sorry, Bella.”

I glared at her through my watering eyes. She did not look at all remorseful. 

Our stare off lasted a few seconds, until she clapped her hands together suddenly. I flinched. 

“Okay! So! That’s hair, makeup, and body, done! You just need to get dressed now, and then you can have a snack.” 

I didn’t move. 

“The jumpsuit won’t kill you, Bella.”

“No. But you might.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. You can handle it from here anyway. I need to get ready myself.”

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “So you’re leaving now?”

“Yes.”

“There’s nothing else you’re going to do?”

“Of course not!” She sounded outraged, which I thought was a pretty bold stance to take, given the way I’d been assaulted over the past couple hours

I hummed in deliberation. “Okay, fine. I’ll get dressed. But only _after_ you’ve left.”

She nodded eagerly, and skipped toward my door. “Don’t forget to wear the underwear!” She called out as she flew down the stairs. 

I heard Charlie make a strangled noise as the front door slammed.

I closed my eyes in mortification. I would have stayed there for a long time, but I heard my phone buzz. 

**That’s so Raven 17:28**  
_Get dressed Bella._

I sighed resignedly, and pulled the jumpsuit out of the garment bag lying on my bag. I tried to ignore the scraps of cotton—at least it’s not lace—that came with it, falling to the floor. 

As I looked at the jumpsuit, I had to admit Alice had chosen well. It was matte black, with gold embroidery around the waist and neckline. Still too feminine, for my taste, but I was too self-conscious to wear a suit like I wanted to, and a dress was definitely out of the question. At least this had a tailored leg.

I pulled it on gently, careful not to let the leg get caught on my bulky walking cast. I tried to ignore the tags, which looked painfully expensive. 

My phone buzzed again. I paused, legs half in, to check it. 

**That’s so Raven 17:32**  
_Don’t forget the underwear xxx_

I groaned. 

**Me 17:32**  
_i hate you_

**That’s so Raven 17:33**  
_Wear the underwear. Nothing you own will go properly._

I slowly pulled off the jumpsuit, muttering curses under my breath. When I was dressed again, I made my way downstairs to grab the shoe. Only one shoe, as my other foot was still securely encased in plaster. I’d been terrified that Alice would force me into a stiletto, but she’d agreed to my docs. 

Small mercies. 

I managed to trudge my way into the kitchen. Charlie was sitting at the table, and looked up as I came in.

Charlie has been more...involved since my return to Forks. He had compartmentalised my bad experience into two defined reactions. Toward Carlisle and Rosalie he was almost worshipfully grateful. One the other hand, he was stubbornly resentful of Edward; he had sent me off on a massive car journey in a half-fixed vehicle. He was also enforcing a curfew, which he’d admitted was encouraged by Renée, who had been outraged by his acceptance of my solo drive.

“Wow, Bella.” He said. “You look lovely.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I haven’t looked yet. I’m not sure how much I trust Alice.”

“Do you want me to take a picture? I can send it to Renée.”

I shrugged. He huffed and pulled out his phone. 

“Alright. Say cheese,” he dragged out the last word. 

I grinned broadly, trying to shift my cast behind my other leg. When he lowered the phone, I dropped the smile, and hobbled over to take a look. 

We both hummed as we stared down at the picture. I looked very uncomfortable, and my expression was forced. Alice had done a good job, though. 

“Maybe we can take some more when your friends get here, Bells?” Charlie suggested. 

“Yeah. That’s a good idea,” I replied. 

I started to make a sandwich, and had only just finished eating it when the bell rang, and I heard Jess’ voice through the letterbox. The next few minutes passed in a blur of hugs and photos—nice ones, this time—and we were out the door before I knew it, Mike half carrying me down the drive. 

“Bye, Dad!” I called back to Charlie.

My friends all chorused in with a “Bye, Chief!” 

Charlie was still smiling while Jess helped me into the car, being very careful of her own dress. Angela and Eric were sitting in the back with me, not looking very comfortable with the situation. Angela brightened when I asked her where Ben was, and she told me that he was already at school. 

“You look awesome, Bella!” Jess called from the front seat. 

“Thanks, Jess, so do you.” I paused. “So do all of you.” 

“Where’s the jumpsuit from?” Angela asked. 

I laughed. “I honestly have no idea. Alice bought it for me—claimed it was an apology on behalf of her brother, for nearly getting me killed. She treated me like Guinea Pig Barbie all day.”

“You should have seen Jess when I told her I was just doing a black suit and tie,” Mike said. “Practically killed me where I stood.”

Jess slapped him lightly. “And I was right, wasn’t I? Grey is better.”

He hummed noncommittally, and Angela giggled next to me. Eric struck up a commiserating discussion about corsages, which prompted more outrage from Jess. 

I was distracted then by the sound of my phone ringing. I pulled it out from the tiny purse Alice had thrust on me earlier, looking briefly at the caller ID before answering. 

“Hi, Dad, what’s up?” I answered warily. 

“Oh...uh, Bells, there’s a boy at the house, waiting for you. He says you’d agreed to go as his date—what was your name, son?” I heard a muffled response at the other end of the phone. “It’s Tyler Crowley.”

“You're kidding.” My dead tone attracted the attention of the group. 

“What’s happening, Bella?” Angela asked, concerned. 

“Tyler’s at my house. He told my dad he’s there to pick me up for prom.” 

“Give me the phone,” Jess ordered

“What?” 

“Give me the phone,” she repeated, her voice broaching no argument. 

I handed it over, careful not to touch her fingers, and the whole car watched in anticipation as she held it to her face. 

“Hi, Charlie, it’s Jess here, can you put Tyler on the phone please?” She suggested, with evident pleasure. She waited for a few seconds. 

“Hi, Tyler! It’s Jess!” Her voice was very friendly, but there was a clear level of falsity to it. “I’m so sorry if there’s been some kind of miscommunication, but Bella is unavailable tonight. To be perfectly honest, she’ll be unavailable every night, as far as you're concerned. No offence. I’m so sorry about your evening.” She didn’t sound very sorry at all. She hung up, a huge smirk on her face. 

My face and neck were flushed crimson with anger. I could feel the rage induced tears starting to fill my eyes. 

“Are you okay, Bella?” Angela murmured. 

Jess looked back at me in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that last part a bit too much? I didn’t mean to offend you.”

I shook my head. “No, you’re fine. I just...I didn’t realise he was actually that much of an asshole.”

Her face softened in sympathy. “I’m sorry. I hope this hasn’t ruined the night.”

“Yeah, Bella, you gotta get the girl!” Mike interjected. They’d heard about Alice's plan, thanks to the friendship that she had struck up with Jess—much to the horror of everyone else. 

I smiled weakly. “Thanks.” 

Angela wrapped her arm around me in a hug, rubbing my back gently. Mike switched on the radio, and him and Eric started singing along immediately. After a few minutes, Tyler was forgotten. 

We arrived at the school soon after; Rosalie’s red convertible was conspicuous in the parking lot. The clouds were thin today, a few streaks of sunlight escaping through far away in the west. 

Everyone else got out of the car first, and Mike helped me out, laughing at the uncomfortable look on my face. 

“You’ve been in two car crashes this year, Bella, I’m sure you can survive a dance.”

I scowled at him, latching onto the excuse. “You’ve seen me in Gym, you should know that’s a fool's prayer.”

“I suppose there _are_ far more people for you to assault this time round.” 

I sniffed and didn’t reply, prompting yet another laugh as we walked toward the school. 

In Phoenix, they held proms in hotel ballrooms. This dance was in the gym, of course. It was probably the only room in town big enough for a dance. When we got inside, I giggled. There were actual ballroom arches and twisted garlands of pastel crepe paper festooning the walls. 

“This looks like a horror movie waiting to happen,” I said. 

“Well,” a male voice whispered behind me, making me flinch. “There are _more_ than enough vampires present.” Emmett came around my other side, gripping my elbow like an old-fashioned gentleman. He nodded at Mike, who immediately slipped away to find Jess. 

“Do you want me to bolt the doors so you can massacre the unsuspecting townsfolk?” I whispered conspiratorially. 

“And where do you fit into that scheme?”

“Oh, I’m with the vampires, of course.”

He grinned. “Anything to get out of dancing.”

“Anything.” 

I looked at the dance floor; it was full, but a small circle had been carved out in the far side, where two couples whirled gracefully. Edward and Jasper looked like they were poured into their suits. Alice was striking in a black ruffle and lace dress. And Rosalie was...well, Rosalie. She was beyond belief. Her vivid scarlet dress had a dangerously high slit in the full skirt, a tightly fitted bodice emphasising her already intimidating cleavage. The cross body design left a small dart in the neckline that dipped between her boobs. 

I tried very hard not to stare. 

I was not successful. 

Emmett snickered next to me. “Really subtle, Bella.” 

I flushed. “It's not my fault!” 

He nodded understandably. “Of course, of course. Who could expect you to _not_ stare at my sister's chest?” He laughed again. “Jasper must be enjoying himself with all you horny teenagers around him.”

“What?” I asked.

“He’ll be feeling all the gross little feelings you lot are having. I suppose Edward can hear them too, but he deserves it.” 

I saw Edward's head turn quickly toward us, a scowl on his face. I realised that the whole family could probably hear us. Rosalie could hear us. 

“I’m just going to...I’m just going to head out,” I said to Emmett. 

He looked at me, confused. “Why?”

“Save everyone the embarrassment.”

He rolled his eyes. “Your dancing won’t kill people. And I need something to make fun of you for. Just bullying you for being human feels unfair.”

“No, uh, the,” I gestured toward Rosalie. “Thing.”

“Ohhh, right.” He frowned. “Wait, what? Why is that embarrassing?”

“You know, the uh…rejection.”

He stared at me in disbelief. “The what?” 

“The rejection.”

He didn’t respond for a second, and then snorted. “You’re a moron.” 

“Rude,” I replied, unsure of why I was being laughed at, but uncomfortable nevertheless. 

“No, no, you are. Rejection? _Moron_ ”

I scowled and started to hobble away, but he grabbed my arm to stop me. 

“Seriously though, not going to happen.” He inclined his head toward the dance floor. “Oh. Edward says you’ve got a guest. Do you want me to help you outside?”

“Who?” I asked, mind instantly going to Tyler. 

Emmett shrugged. “Dunno. Apparently he’s your friend.”

I thought for a moment. “Okay. But how on board are you to punch them? If they’re annoying me?”

He grinned conspiratorially at me. “Oh, so on board.”

I nodded. “Good. Let’s go.” 

We slowly made our way out to the car park, Emmett half carrying me. As soon as we were out of the door, I caught sight of Jacob Black, leaning against the wall of the gym. He wasn’t in a tux, but had apparently dressed up for the occasion of lurking outside a prom, wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and tie, his hair smoothed back in his usual ponytail. 

He approached us quickly once he saw my pace. As he got closer, I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. He was clearly uncomfortable—excruciatingly so. His face was apologetic as his eyes met mine. 

“Hey, Bella, I was hoping you would be here.” Jacob sounded like he’d been hoping for the exact opposite. But his smile was just as warm as ever. 

“Hi, Jacob.” I smiled back. “What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” He asked tentatively, glancing at Emmett. I was shocked to notice that Jacob didn’t have to look up. He must have grown half a foot since I’d last seen him.

Emmett looked at me for confirmation. I nodded, patting his arm gently. He let go off me, watching to ensure I stayed upright, before walking away. 

“Okay, cool,” Jacob said. 

“Wow, Jake,” I said, staring up at him now he was next to me. “How tall are you now?” 

He was smug. “Six-two.”

“Jesus, what have you been eating?” I laughed. 

He lowered his voice to a whisper. “The secret is Cheez Whiz.” 

I grinned up at him. “I’d never have guessed.” 

He beamed back at me. We stayed in companionable silence for a moment. 

“So.” I spoke first. “How did you end up here tonight?”

“Can you believe my dad paid me twenty bucks to come to your prom?” He admitted, slightly ashamed. 

“Yes, I can,” I muttered. “Well, I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“What, with my wall leaning? How could I not?” He smiled. “You look really nice, by the way.”

“Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.” I shifted. “So, uh, why did Billy pay you to come here?”

“He said it was a ‘safe’ place to talk to you.” He punctuated his sentence with air quotes. “I swear the old man is losing his mind.”

I joined in his laughter weakly. 

“Anyway, he said that if I told you something, he would get me that master cylinder I need,” he confessed with a sheepish grin. 

“Tell me, then. I want you to get your car finished.” I grinned back. At least Jacob didn’t believe any of this. I glanced back toward the Gym door, where Emmett was loitering, watching us in concern. I gestured for him to go inside, but he shook his head. 

Jacob cleared his throat, and I looked back at him guiltily. “Please don’t get mad, okay?”

“There’s no way I’ll be mad at you, Jacob,” I assured him. “I won’t even be mad at Billy. Just tell me what you have to.”

“Well—this is so stupid, I’m sorry, Bella—he wants you to stay away from the Cullens. He asked me to tell you ‘please’.” He shook his head in disgust. 

“He’s still superstitious, huh?”

“Yeah. He was...kind of over the top when you got hurt down in Phoenix. He didn’t believe…” Jacob trailed off self-consciously. 

My eyes narrowed. “Someone hit me with their car.”

“I know that,” Jacob added quickly. 

“He thinks my friends had something to do with me getting hurt.” It wasn’t a question, and despite my promise, I was angry. 

Jacob wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Look, Jacob, I know Billy probably won’t believe this, but just so you know”—he looked at me now, responding to the new earnestness in my voice—“Carlisle really did save my life. If it weren’t for Carlisle and Rosalie, I’d be dead.”

“I know,” he claimed, but sounded like my sincere words had affected him some. Maybe he’d be able to convince Billy of this much, at least. 

“Hey, I’m sorry you had to come do this, Jacob,” I apologised. “At any rate, you’ll get your parts, right?” 

“Yeah,” he muttered. He was still looking awkward...upset. 

“There’s more?” I asked in disbelief. 

“Forget it,” he mumbled, “I’ll get a job and save the money myself.”

I glared at him until he met my gaze. “No, you won’t, Jacob. Just tell me.”

“It’s so bad.”

“I don’t care. Tell me,” I insisted. 

“Okay...but, geez, this sounds bad.” He shook his head. “He said to tell you, no, to _warn_ you, that—and this is his plural, not mine”—he raised his hand again to make little quotation marks in the air—“‘We’ll be watching.’” He watched warily for my reaction.

It sounded like something from a mafia movie. I laughed out loud. 

“Sorry you had to do this, Jake,” I snickered. 

He grinned in relief. “I don’t mind _that_ much. Haven’t seen you for a while anyway. So, uh, should I tell him you said to butt the hell out?” He asked hopefully.

“No,” I sighed. “Tell him I said thanks. I know he means well.” 

He smiled. “Can I help you back inside?”

I glanced back to Emmett, only to see he’d been replaced by Rosalie, who was making her way over. 

“No, I think I’ve got some help coming.”

He followed my gaze, looking her up and down appraisingly. He whistled. “Damn, you do. Nice going, Bella.”

“No, no, she’s my friend.” I rushed to explain. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure. I guess I’ll leave you to your _friend_ , then.”

I braced myself as he pulled me into a tight hug. When he released me, Rosalie was there. 

“Hey, Bella,” she said softly. “Are you going to introduce me?” 

“Oh, this is Jacob. My dad knows his dad—Billy Black.” 

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she kept the smile in place. “Are you the one who did Bella’s truck? It’s very good for how old the parts are.”

“Are you the one who sent her down the west coast in a broken car? Easy mistake to make, I suppose.” His eyes glittered mischievously.

Rosalie looked very ready to snark back, but I placed a hand on her arm. “Are you okay to go inside?”

She looked at me. “Of course, as soon as you’re done talking to—what was your name again?”

Jacob smirked. “Jacob.” He turned to me. “See you soon, Bella.”

“See you, Jacob.” 

Rosalie wound her arm around my waist as he walked away, tugging me around to face her. I shivered at the sensation of her skin, and she immediately loosened her grip.

“I’m sorry,” she said, face apologetic. “I should have asked.” 

“No, no,” I rushed to assure her. “I’m just a bit...off with unexpected touching, right now.”

She nodded gently. “Of course. In the future, would you rather I ask first, then?”

“Yeah,” I replied gratefully. “Please do.”

She hummed in confirmation. We both stood there quietly for a moment.

“So,” she said. 

“So,” I replied nervously. 

“Alice said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Did she?” I squeaked. 

“I did also hear Jess talking to Mike.”

“Oh?” 

She smiled. “They were very interested in how you were doing. Apparently they think you’re going to wimp out—Mike’s words—of your plan.” 

I hummed nervously. 

“What was your plan, Bella?” Her voice had lowered to a husky tone. 

I was very lucky she was supporting me. My knees were no longer doing the job.

“Oh, I was supposed to ask someone something.”

“Who?”

“You.” My voice wobbled slightly. 

“What did you want to ask me?”

“Uh...I guess, I want to know, if you maybe—you know, only if you wanted to—go on a date with me?” I mumbled quickly.

“What was that?” Her eyes were amused. 

I inhaled deeply, steeling myself. “Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?” 

She smiled. “Of course, Bella.” 

I sighed in relief, and she giggled. 

“Do you want to go inside? It must be cold out here for you—that jumpsuit is rather exposing.” Her eyes danced down to my torso. 

I blushed. “Yes. I’d like that.”

She started to help me toward the door. “Would you like to dance with me—if you don’t mind me continuing to hold you, of course.” She asked. 

“I don’t mind, but I’m not sure encouraging me to dance is a good idea,” I hedged. 

“I can lead,” she said.

“I’ll still fall over.”

We were inside now. 

“I think you underestimate how strong I am,” she murmured. 

I was about to ask her what she meant, when her arm tightened around my waist, and she lifted me off the ground. I smothered a yelp as she whirled me toward the dance floor. I was only a few inches off the ground, and if anyone else was to look they probably wouldn’t notice. 

I caught a glimpse of Jess and Mike dancing, staring at me excitedly. Jess gave me a thumbs up, and Mike winked at me. Angela was there, too, looking blissfully happy in the arms of little Ben Cheney; she didn’t look up from his eyes, a head lower than hers. Lee and Samantha, Lauren, glaring toward us, with Conner; I could name every face that spiralled past us. 

Rosalie carried me to the center of the floor. A slow song had just started. Once we were there, she wrapped her other arm around me, and started to twirl us around. I could tell from the alarmed looks of the people near us that whatever Rosalie was doing, it was not the expected routine for a school dance. I tried not to blush. 

“Hey, Bella?” She asked, drawing my attention back to her. 

“Yeah?” 

“What are we doing tomorrow?”

My mind went blank. I hadn’t thought that far. I said as much, and Rosalie smiled. 

“Can I choose then?” 

I nodded. 

“Okay. I’ll pick you up at one?”

“Not a dinner date?” I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. 

“Well, you haven’t seen any of us in the sun yet. There’s a place in the forest that I'd like to take you—it’s better to see in the day anyway.” Her voice was soft. 

I hummed in confirmation. 

The song was coming to an end. She twirled us around as the last notes drew out, and just as the song ended, she dipped me until I was halfway to the floor, her knee supporting my lower back. 

“Bella?” She asked, her face inches from mine. 

“Yeah?” I breathed. 

“You should probably start calling me Rose now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Rose comes off as smooth here? Idk, but she is 100% losing her shit on the inside
> 
> This time, with the clothes, they're all fancy ass designer ones, so if you want to look them up you can! 
> 
> Bella's Jumpsuit: Cucculelli Shaheen, Collection 2, Black Arrows Jumpsuit  
> Rosalie's Dress: Elie Saab, Fall 2017 Couture, Look 11  
> Alice's Dress: Alexander McQueen, Fall 2019 Ready to Wear, Look 28
> 
> Coming soon, on a Bank of Violets: the epilogue, in which Bella is awkward as shit, as well as chapter one of [redacted], the New Moon rewrite.


	27. The Meadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, writing two whole chapters in a day because I'm a dumbass who doesn't know how to organise my shit:👁️👄👁️
> 
> My poor poor beta, having to put up with me and edit said chapters in about half an hour so I can get them up in time: 👁️👄👁️
> 
> (Amanda I'm sorry and I love you, please don't quit)

Charlie looked on in fond amusement as I rushed around the house, frantically trying to prepare for one o’clock. His good humour faded quickly, however, once I forcefully subjected him to a parade of outfits. After the third ‘is this nice enough?’, he threw in the towel, begging me to call one of my friends. 

“I’m really not good at all this outfit crap, Bells,” he said. “For me it’s the uniform or flannels. Someone else would be more helpful.”

“But Dad,” I pleaded. “Rose is really old-school”—massive understatement—“I need your advice on what is _traditionally_ date-appropriate.”

He grimaced. “Is old-school some kind of slang, or code for something…” he trailed off. 

I was confused for a moment, but the disgust on his face clued me in. “Ew, Dad, No!” I rushed to explain. “I just meant she’s got olden-day values. I think she’d probably attend a debutante ball if we had one. That’s why I need _your_ help.”

Charlie’s expression didn’t change. “Are you callin’ me old, Bella?”

“Yes.”

He snorted. “Fair enough. Doesn’t change the fact that I can’t give outfit advice. Call Blair, or Jess, or maybe Alice. You’ve got enough gal pals to talk to without putting it all on your old man, huh?” 

“Good point,” I replied, gathering up the assortment of T-shirt’s and hobbling out of the room. Alice and Jess had already been texting me relentlessly all morning, and I didn’t want to encourage them. After Jess had strong-armed me into a safe sex talk last night, I didn’t feel like she didn’t any more incentive to get involved. 

I shuddered at the memory of her stuffing condoms into my purse. And her subsequent tutorial on how to convert them into dental dams. 

Shifting the pile of clothes to perch precariously on one arm, I pulled out my phone and dialed Blair. She picked up almost immediately.

“Izzy, I swear to god, this better be an emergency.”

“I’ve got a date with Rose today, and I don’t know what to wear.” My voice shook softly as I pounded up the stairs. 

Her voice was amused. “Christ, it’s like you’re living in a rom com. What’s wrong with a T-shirt and jeans?” 

“Well, that’s what I thought, but her sister said she’s really traditional, so I don’t know if there’s some sort of dress code she expects?”

“Why don’t you ask the sister?”

“Alice dressed me for prom—I don’t want a repeat performance. She’s _terrifying._ ” 

Blair snorted. “Fair enough. What are the other options then?”

“Uhhh,” I frantically looked through the pile of clothes on my bed. “I’ve got that blue frilly dress Renée made me wear last Christmas?”

Blair made retching sounds. 

“Yeah, not a good idea. Maybe a blouse?”

“Babe, in what world are _you_ going to look good in a blouse?”

“Well I don’t know what to do!” I snapped. “What if she doesn’t want to go out again because I wore some horribly offensive colour or something?”

“She thought you were hot when you dressed normally though.” Blair argued.

“But why would Alice warn me if it’s not important?”

I could almost hear Blair’s shrug. “Maybe it’s just a warning to go slow. You’ve assumed it’s clothes, but maybe Barbie wants you to kiss her hand and ask her father permission to court her. I don’t presume to know the minds of people who choose to live in Forks.” 

I laughed hysterically. “You’re not helping Blair!”

“Izzy, seriously. Just wear a nice T-shirt and take it slow. It’ll be fine. You don’t want to date her anyway if she doesn’t like your clothes.”

I ran my hand through my hair, messing up my ponytail. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

“She agreed to a date.”

“Maybe she felt like she had to? She felt responsible for Phoenix, this might just be pity…”

“Babe, I only interacted with Rosalie for like two minutes, and I can tell you confidently that if she wanted to turn you down, she would.”

“Her family managed to force her to hang out with me, though.”

“Bella, you know better than anyone that the most stubborn people can be putty in the hands of their family. She doesn’t owe you anything. Take the win.”

“No,” I whined piteously. 

I heard her laugh through the phone. “Bye, Izzy.”

The phone went quiet, and I pulled it away from my face to see that she’d hung up. Fucking Blair. Can’t support me in my panic. Had to come in and _make sense._ Asshole. 

She was right though. A T-shirt would do. I stuffed the remainder of my wardrobe back into the drawers, keeping behind a ratty white T-shirt from some bookstore Renée had taken me to. It wasn’t my nicest, but it was one of my favourites. I peered out of my window, looking up at the sky, and was pleasantly surprised to see that there were very few clouds. 

With the clothing debacle out of the way, my curiosity about Rosalie—Rose—and the sun grew. Maybe she turned into a bat or something. I assumed it wouldn’t be horrifying...or rather, I hoped. Seeing Rose burn into ashes on our first date didn’t sound like a good time. 

I sat in my room pondering the possibilities for a while, losing track of time. I was shaken out of my reverie by Charlie yelling up the stairs. 

“Bells, you’ve got an hour before she comes round, do you need to eat first?” 

I yelled back a confirmation, and trudged back down to the kitchen. Charlie raised an eyebrow at my entrance. 

“Nice shirt. Very traditional. The decaying zombie really adds something special.” 

I scowled at him, and started to make myself a grilled cheese. Neither of us spoke until I sat down. 

“So, where are you guys going?” Charlie asked. 

“Not sure,” I mumbled through a mouthful of cheese.

His brow furrowed. “Hmmm. Is it a surprise?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I think we’re going somewhere in the forest—near where they go camping.”

“Huh. Sounds nice. I’m going fishing today, remember, so if you need me I probably won’t be able to get any texts until this evening.” 

I hummed in confirmation. 

“Remember to take the pepper spray—“ he began. 

“Dad!”

“What?”

“I don’t need pepper spray!”

“Bells, better safe than sorry. I’d feel much better knowing you had it with you—I don’t know this girl.”

“You know Carlisle, though.” I muttered sullenly. 

“I do. But humour me please. Just for my peace of mind.” 

I frowned, but conceded. “Fine.” 

“Thanks, Bells.” He reached out and rubbed my shoulder. “I hope you have a good day.”

I hummed in response as he walked out of the room. I heard him rattling around the house, presumably getting ready for his fishing trip. Just as I was finishing my sandwich, I heard him call out goodbye, and the front door slammed shut. 

Without food to distract me, the panic started to rise again. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my friends. 

**dumb bastards**

**Me 12:47**  
_she’s going to hate me_  
_i’m wearing a tshirt with a zombie on it_

**If I had to pick a dude 12:47**  
_Nice._

**Me 12:48**  
_no! mike! not nice! i’ve got a decaying corpse on my boobs!_

**That’s why her hairs so big 12:48**  
_Bella????? Why?????????????_

**Jane B 12:48**  
_Bella, just breathe, it’ll be fine._

**Me 12:48**  
_blair told me to just wear something normal!_

**That’s why her hairs so big 12:49**  
_I swear to god Bella_  
_Okay_  
_It’s too late to change_  
_Just stay clam_

**If I had to pick a dude 12:50**  
_clam_

**Jane B 12:50**  
_Mike, please be quiet._

**That’s why her hairs so big 12:50**  
_Mike I will dump you_

**lã püśh bãbėŷ 12:51**  
_oof dude, maybe be quiet._

**If I had to pick a dude 12:51**  
_Sorry Jess_

My huff of laughter was interrupted by a knock at the door. I nearly dropped my phone in surprise, trying desperately to muffle my panicked yelp.

**Me 12:52**  
_fuck_  
_shit_  
_she’s fucking here early_  
_fucking kill me_  
_someone get tyler to hit me with his van again_

**Jane B 12:52**  
_You got this, Bella!_

**That’s why her hairs so big 12:53**  
_I’m not going to talk to Tyler, guess you’ll just have to suffer and go out with the super hot girl_

**lã püśh bãbėŷ 12:53**  
_Good luck_

**If I had to pick a dude 12:53**  
_Just stay clam lol_

**That’s why her hairs so big 12:53**  
_Mike I will kill you_

I switched my phone off with a panicked giggle. I hobbled out of the kitchen to the door, trying to calm my breathing as I went. As I opened the door, I plastered a painfully false smile onto my face. 

“Rose! Hi!” 

She smiled back. “Hi, Bella, sorry I’m a little early—I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I assured her, ushering her into the house. “I’d just finished eating.”

Her eyes dropped to my T-shirt, and her smile grew. “I like the shirt.”

I tried not to let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thanks.” I shuffled toward the stairs to sit down, dragging one of my shoes with me. “So, do I get to know where we’re going yet?”

“No,” she said, watching me with concern. “It’s going to be a surprise—do you need help with that?”

I looked at her questioningly. 

“Do you want me to tie your shoe up for you? Your ribs must be hurting when you bend over.”

I blinked in surprise. “Oh, well, sure, if you’re alright with that, but I can do it myself—and you’re already here.” 

Rose laughed from where she was suddenly kneeling by my feet. “No need to get flustered, I’m just here to tie your shoelaces.”

And now I was bright red. 

I elected to stay silent, and she looked up at me, her expression bashful. “Sorry,” she said. “I live with Emmett.” 

I nodded understandingly. “Sure. No worries. I get it. No need to explain.” 

She smirked. “You alright there, Bella?” 

I pouted. “Leave me alone. You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“Why, because we’re on a date?”

“No, because I’m injured.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Based on the things I’ve seen, that rule would make it impossible to ever tease you.” She stood up, gently pulling me up with her. I tried not to flinch as she gripped my arm, leading me toward the door and down the porch steps. I noticed that the sun had disappeared beyond a patch of clouds—I suspected Alice had something to do with Rosalie’s impeccable timing.

“Exactly. I’m a sensitive soul.”

“Uh huh.” I could hear the derision in her tone. 

“If I didn’t have a broken leg, I would be flouncing away right now.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry, I believe you. But then you wouldn’t be able to come with me.”

“That would be sad,” I conceded. “But worth it, if I could get a moment's peace.” 

“Just wait until Emmett starts to hang out with you more. I think he’s been saving up insults ever since you came to our house.” 

“So, a few weeks?” 

She helped me into the car. “You’ve got to remember that we don’t sleep, so that’s double the time you think it is.”

I waited patiently as she walked around the car to climb into her own side. “So what do you guys do at night then?” 

“I mainly work on my cars right now, but a lot of our time is spent learning new things—or watching stuff and reading. Emmett’s working his way through Game of Thrones right now.” 

“Huh,” I said as we pulled onto the one-oh-one north. “What does he think of it?”

“We don’t really talk about it much. I’m not the biggest fan of the show.”

“Oh, why?” I asked. 

Her hands grew tense around the wheel. “I suppose it hits a little too close to home.” 

I didn’t answer, unnerved by her sudden anger. 

She glanced over at me. “Sorry, Bella. This is supposed to be a nice day.”

I hummed. “I’m not going to pry, but you can talk to me if you want. I don’t mind.”

She smiled weakly. “I appreciate that, Bella.” 

We stayed quiet for a few minutes. I looked out the windows, watching as the houses gave way to thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks. 

“Can I know where we’re going yet?” I asked tentatively. 

“We’ll be getting out of the car soon, so you won’t have to wait much longer.”

“What’s down this road?” The tarmac looked like it was fading into dirt. 

“A trail.” 

I looked skeptically down at my cast, and then at her. “Are we hiking?”

She glanced over at me, grinning. “I’m running. I’ll carry you, don’t worry.” 

“For how far? Last time was awful.”

“Five miles, or so,” she replied offhandedly. 

I stared at her in horror. “Five miles?” 

“It’s really not that far if I go at full speed.”

“Like going fast will make it better!” 

Rose snorted. “Please, as if you could tell how fast I was going before.”

“I definitely did.” 

She pulled into the side of the road, stopping just as we reached an old, rundown gate. 

“What are you afraid of?” Rose shifted in her seat to look at me. 

“Hitting trees and throwing up.” I answered promptly. 

She leaned toward me. “Would I let you hit a tree?”

“Uh...well—not deliberately,” I stammered. 

“But would _I_ run into a tree?”

“No?” 

She nodded. “And did you throw up last time?” 

I could smell her now, she’d moved so close. I reflexively inhaled deeply, and she smirked. 

“Did you?”

“No,” I mumbled. 

“Exactly.” She leaned back, opening her door. “So let’s go, because the sun’s going to come out soon and I want to get there first.”

“Can I know where ‘there’ is yet?” I asked, unbuckling myself. 

“No,” she said, stepping out of the car. I followed suit, huffing. 

“I’m going to find out soon anyway.” 

Suddenly Rose was next to me, arms outstretched. “Exactly. So just wait a minute.”

I crossed my arms and glared at her. “What if I say I don’t want to go? No secondary location for me, no ma’am.” 

Rose shrugged. “Fine. You can deal with Alice and Jess then.” 

We stared at each other in a silent standoff. I cracked first, sighing. 

“Goddammit. Fine.” 

She laughed, and moved to pick me up. I took a deep fortifying breath and encircled her neck with my arms, and she lifted me off the ground, bridal style. 

“Let’s go.” She started walking towards the dark forest. 

“The trail?” The panic was clear in my voice. 

“I said there was a trail, not that we were taking it. The whole point is that no one will find us.” She glanced down at me, grinning. “Me in sunlight is too much for the average human.” 

“That’s ominous,” I muttered. 

She laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is.” 

For the first few minutes we went at normal speed, clambering over boulders and fallen trees until we were far away from both the trail and the road. 

“Can you see the road?” Rose asked quietly. 

“No?” 

“Good. Close your eyes.” 

Before I had a chance to respond, she was running, flying through the trees so fast I could barely make anything out. I slammed my eyes shut, stomach heaving, and clung tightly to her neck. The wind whipped my hair into my face, and I shivered in the cold. 

Suddenly, we stopped. I opened my eyes tentatively as Rose lowered me to the ground. 

“No falling over this time,” she instructed me. 

I glared at her. “That was your fault.”

“Maybe so.” She pointed toward a light path in the trees, a glow that was yellow instead of green. “We’re going over there. Can you walk it?”

I nodded, insulted. I began to walk over, pace increasing with every step, while she followed my noiselessly. 

I reached the edge of the pool of light and stepped through the last fringe of ferns into the loveliest place I had ever seen. The meadow was small, perfectly round, and filled with wildflowers—violet, yellow, and soft white. Somewhere nearby, I could hear the bubbling music of a stream. The sun was directly overhead, filling the circle with a haze of buttery sunshine. I walked slowly, awestruck, through the soft grass, swaying flowers, and warm, gilded air. I halfway turned, looking to see where Rosalie was, but stopped when I spotted her, still under the dense shade of the canopy at the edge of the hollow, watching me with cautious eyes. Only then did I remember what she had promised to show me. 

I took a step back toward her, my eyes alight with curiosity. Her eyes were wary, reluctant. I smiled encouragingly and beckoned to her with my hand. She rolled her eyes, and held up her own in warning. 

Rosalie seemed to take a deep breath, and then she stepped out into the bright glow of the midday sun. 

I gasped. 

Her skin sparkled, like thousands of tiny diamonds had been embedded in its surface. The glittering reflections danced over the meadow, shifting with every slight movement. The meadow, so spectacular to me at first, paled in comparison to her. My eyes roved across her arms and shoulders, finally coming to rest on her face. I realised that she was watching me warily. 

“Is this...okay?”

“Okay?” I said incredulously. “You’re beautiful.” I flushed with embarrassment. “Not that you weren’t before—and not that this _isn’t_ beautiful, I just meant, you know, this isn’t bad. It’s good, I mean. But you were good before.”

The expression on her face had softened during my ramblings. “Oh. Well, thank you, Bella. That’s very sweet of you.” 

“Can I…” I reached a hand out. “Can I touch you?” 

“Are you sure?” She moved forward slowly. “I know this must be strange.” 

“I mean, only if you want me to…” I trailed off uncertainly. 

She smiled, reaching me. “No, that’s fine.” 

Hesitantly, afraid, even now, that she would reject me...hesitantly, I reached out my hand and rested it against her cheek, rubbing my thumb back and forth her shimmering skin. I marvelled at the perfect texture, satin smooth, cool as stone. I kept my hand relatively still until the panic in my chest receded. When I looked up again, her eyes were open, watching me. Butterscotch today. 

Her quick smile turned up the corners of her flawless lips. 

“I don’t scare you?” She asked playfully, but I could hear the real curiosity in her soft voice. 

“No more than usual.”

She smiled wider; her teeth flashed in the sun. 

I inched closer, bringing my other hand up to cup her face. I saw that my fingers trembled, and knew it wouldn’t escape her notice. 

“Do you mind?” I asked, noticing that she had closed her eyes. 

“No,” she said, without opening her eyes. “It’s nice. You’re so warm, compared to me.” 

I huffed a laugh. “Are you saying I’m hot?”

Her eyes flicked open. “Yes,” she said seriously, gazing intensely at me. “Yes, I am.” 

I blushed and immediately dropped my hands. “Oh.” 

“Are you okay?” Her voice was concerned. 

“No, yeah, I’m fine.” I rushed to assure her. “Just not quite sure why you...you know.”

Rose looked confused. “What?” 

I gestured between us. “You know. Why you agreed.”

“To go on a date? Isn’t it pretty self explanatory?” She laughed. 

“But, you sort of hated me...before the James thing. It just seems like you feel, I don’t know, guilty?” I fidgeted anxiously, staring at my feet. 

“What? No, no, Bella, I _like_ you. I hated being forced into a relationship, never you. I don’t have the best experience with that, and you just happened to be the subject of my irritation. I’m sorry.”

“But that doesn’t mean you want to date me. Why now?”

She touched my chin, tilting my face up so I could meet her eyes. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t your biggest fan. But after Port Angeles, I kept an eye on you, trying to make sure you talked to someone. I grew...interested. But I didn’t want to ask you out. You had already been hurt twice, just by human problems, and I didn’t want to bring you into my family, in case something like James happened. And, admittedly, I was afraid of another forced relationship. But after James...you’re already involved. The only real reason I had _not_ to date you, was my own trauma. And my interest was already far, far greater than it had been in those men.”

“May I ask what happened?”

Her expression shuttered. “I would rather you didn’t.” 

I nodded. “Right. Sorry.”

“And then I overheard some of your conversation in the hospital”—I blushed furiously—“and I realised it might be an option.” 

“How much did you hear?”

It was her turn to look embarrassed. “Quite a lot. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy…”

I reached out to grab her hand. “I guess I can forgive you.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice was playful as we entwined our fingers. 

“Yeah,” I murmured. 

There was a quiet moment as we looked at each other. Heart pounding, I lifted our joined hands to my mouth, and kissed the back of hers. She stared at me. 

“What...what was that?” She asked, voiceshaking. 

My stomach dropped. “I thought…well Alice said...and then Blair—“ I stammered.

“What did Alice say?” I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. 

“She said that you liked traditional stuff…” I mumbled awkwardly. 

Rosalie burst out laughing. 

“And you—” She wheezed. “You thought that meant kissing my hand?”

“Well, I didn’t know, and I panicked!” I defended weakly. 

She let go of my hand, grinning. I winced. 

“You fucking moron,” she said, and before I could reply, she grabbed my face and pulled me into a kiss. 

*

When Rose dropped me home later that night, my cheeks were hurting from smiling. Dad was waiting on the sofa when I came in. 

“Have a good time, Bells?” He asked as he wandered upstairs to my room. 

“The best, Dad,” I replied. 

“You need the pepper spray?”

“Nope! Told you so!”

I could hear him laughing as I walked into my room. I got ready for bed in a daze, and it was only as I drifted off that I realised something. 

I hadn’t had to stop myself from saying Charlie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it! I'm a simp for Bella developing a healthy relationship with Charlie, so like, that's why it ended the way it did. I didn't hit the word count of the original :( which is sad but also I can't think of any scenes that should have been added in, so I'm alright with that.
> 
> Not to put too fine a point on it, but I would die for every single one of you. My friend has been bullying me throughout this whole thing because every single time one of you leaves a comment I just send him a screenshot of it followed by a spam of 💕💕💕🥺🥺🥺. Thank you so much to every single person who has read this, I still can't believe it? It's insane that people actually read the thing I started out of spite for miss Smeyer.


End file.
